An Unexpected Debt – Chapter 7

I thought owing close to five million dollars to the bank was bad? Owing money to some rich asshole is even worse.

I spend several hours researching Takemo Diaz on the duonet before showing up at his office on Ossun Orbital Station Two. I’m not sure what I hoped to find, but this man wasn’t it. Maybe I had thought he would be some old, rugged, hardened criminal type. But the handsome man with the ten million credit smile and relaxed attitude lounging around the vineyards of Sonoma was unexpected.

Just like the debt he holds over my family now.

I sit in the waiting area of Diaz Waste Management’s headquarters and try not to fidget. This is some swanky place for a garbage business. Curving windows look out onto Ossun, rotating below us. The couches and chairs are sleek and stylish. The front desk has the latest tech, with two assistants busy behind it. A coffee bar off to the side burbles with steam next to a refrigerator stocked with high-end bottled mineral waters and snacks. It’s all meant to be the perfect picture of civility.

I school my features and drape my arm across the back of the chair, hold my head up, and keep my chin pointed forward. My practiced stare reminds the guy running the front desk I’m here, and I’m not afraid of them.

I wish I’d had the chance to spend those days at the spa before this happened because I am in rough shape. This morning, I plucked my eyebrows, shaved my legs, and scrubbed my face until it was pink. I pulled my hair into a low ponytail over my shoulder to cover up my ragged undercut and clipped my nails to small blunt squares. My best pair of pants paired with a respectable button-down shirt were all I had to wear that still fits me. It was hard to get this appointment on Takemo Diaz’s calendar; I didn’t have time to go shopping for something else.

“I’ll take what I can get,” I had told his assistant.

Of course, he’s making me wait forty minutes past my appointed time.

Of course.

The office door swings open, and the chatter of an excited conversation filters out into the waiting area.

“Thank you all for coming. I’m excited about our partnership and future together,” a man says, bowing to the people leaving.

I keep my eyes on them because the woman at the head of the pack looks familiar, but I can’t place her. She locks eyes with me, and we stare at each other for a moment before she moves on through the double doors into the lobby.

“Sir, your four o’clock is here,” the assistant says to the man left standing at the door as he’s delivered a cup of coffee.

I hold my breath. It’s Takemo Diaz, and shit, he’s even more stunning in person.

He looks at his watch. “Yikes. It appears I’m running behind.”

He smiles as he sips at his mug of coffee and lifts his eyes to look at me.

Christ. This man is… well, he’s hot. No, wait. He’s handsome. And young, too. I think I read that he’s around my age or a little older. His three-piece suit is pressed to impress, his face is rough with a short beard, and he’s swooped his hair up on top of his head.

He smiles at me like he knows me, and I suddenly feel naked. His attention is disconcerting, but I don’t let it faze me. I’m a strong, independent woman, and I’m here to figure out how to get my family out of the trouble it got into without my oversight.

I should never have left them. What was I thinking, first helping Vivian and then going away to flight school in the middle of all this?

“Ms. Skylar Kawabata, we meet at last.” His smile widens as he crosses the room to me with his hand out. I can only stare with a slack jaw. “Takemo Diaz, head of Diaz Waste Management… and Enterprises, now, I suppose.” He chuckles, and I hate how beautiful he is. Those kinds of good looks should be illegal.

Snap out of it, Skylar!

I blink and stand up, ignoring his outstretched hand. He pulls his hand back to his side with a smirk.

“Is that how we’re starting off our first meeting together?” he asks, stuffing his hand in his pants pocket.

“I’m here to talk about my mother and the Mikasa,” I say, keeping my voice steady.

“Of course. Well, come in.” He turns and leads the way back to his office.

I’m sure most people enter his office, and they’re thrilled by what they see — a gorgeous view of Ossun below, a wall of green plants in bright LED light, a bubbling fountain complete with hand-sized koi fish, and a desk made of natural wood. This is what I like to term ‘subtle extravagance.’ It’s not gold-plated toilets and hanging crystal chandeliers. It’s ‘I’m too good for that tacky shit.’

I take in the scene and keep my mouth shut. Within a moment, I already know I’m in way over my head. This will be a negotiation I won’t win, but I have the chance to make some kind of difference here… once I find out how bad the arrangement is to begin with.

“I can guess why you’re here. To be frank, I thought I would get this visit months ago,” he says, sitting in his plush office chair. He sips his coffee again and sets it on the desk. “Sorry. Can I get you some coffee? Sparkling water? A tumbler of scotch?” His eyebrows climb as my frown deepens.

How about a gun, asshole?

“Nothing, thanks.” My voice is ice cold. “What you can get me is an explanation of what’s going on. My mother won’t speak to me, and I just found out she owes you money.” I raise my shoulders and sit up straighter. “So, I’d like to know how she came to owe you this money, how much, and what I can do to correct this debt as soon as possible.”

He’s trying to keep a straight face, and I’m trying not to lunge across the desk and wring his neck.

“I’m not sure I owe you any kind of explanation about anything. My agreement is between your mother and me.”

I lift my chin a little more. “My mother’s business is my inheritance. I think I deserve to know what’s going on.”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes keen on my every move, every breath.

Appeal to his good nature, Skylar.

“If I remember correctly, Diaz Waste Management is a family business, is it not?”

His smile evaporates like it never existed.

“It is,” he says through clenched teeth.

“I’m sure you knew what was going on in your business long before you ever took over. I’m merely asking for information.”

“Ms. Kawabata,” he begins, leaning forward, “I knew what was going on in my family’s business because they involved me one-hundred percent from the time I was born. If you don’t know what’s going on in your family business, that’s your fault, not mine.”

I swallow the slap to my face. There’s nothing I want more right now than to douse this whole place in accelerant and light it on fire.

I can go either of two ways here, and I have to decide quickly. I can get bitchy and angry, which will get me absolutely nowhere but would feel really, really good considering the smirk on this man’s face. Or I can turn on the subjugation, the sorrowful eyes, the bowing, and the scraping.

It’s possible that if I add the scraping, I may get somewhere.

I am not below scraping.

“Please,” I say, tuning my voice with a slight wobble. “Please. All I’m asking for is some information.”

He swivels back and forth in his chair and taps his fingers on the desk. I don’t break eye contact.

“Fine,” he says, and I hold my breath even longer as he pulls up his data. Blurred numbers and spreadsheets float between us, visible from his side. “Your mother now owes us over two million credits.”

Fuck me. This is almost as bad as what Vivian went through.

“So I confiscated her ship.” He shrugs like this is no big deal. “You’re lucky the Amagi is not hers. But I’m not a bank, so I can only take so much from my debtors.”

He probably threatened to board the ship and space my family. There was only one option for Mom, and she took it.

This arrogant prick…

I swallow, and my breaths are shallow.

He sits back in his chair. “You’re lucky the lawyers you hired secured enough money from the military to pay for the work you had done on the Amagi, or your mother would have been out a lot more.”

I blink at him, unable to comprehend how this person I didn’t even know existed knows all these details about me and my life.

Well, if he thinks he knows me already, he’s in for a treat. Because no one knows what I have been through since birth, not even my own mother.

“Yes, the Amagi is mine, one-hundred percent. You can’t have her.” Anger is creeping into my voice, and every word now has a knife-sharp edge.

He minimizes all of his spreadsheets with a wave of his hand. “I don’t want your ship. But you could work off some of your mother’s debt if you like.” His smile is just this side of evil. “It might take a few decades, but I could arrange something at a low-interest rate.”

I ignore this offer. “What are you going to do with the Mikasa?”

He shrugs again. “I’m going to have it haul trash. That’s really all it’s good for.”

My head heats to blinding levels. “It’s a fucking Model Eleven Corsair, and you want it to haul trash?” My voice raises almost an entire octave. “You’ll ruin it within a year.”

“It’s my ship now. I’ll do whatever I please with it.”

Oh my fucking God. Now, he’s just saying things to me to make me angry.

I stand up and walk to the window. Calm down, Skylar. There’s no universe in which your temper will get you anywhere with this guy.

And unfortunately, I’m between two rock-solid hard places. I can’t go to Vivian about this. She has no money to help us because she hasn’t turned a profit in years, and now she’s worried about Athens Industries firing her. Also, she will absolutely, one-hundred percent, blame herself for this mess. None of Mom’s men are wealthy, or they would have helped already. I could go to the Lees for help, but they’ve already been more than generous with their support and labor getting the Amagi back up and running.

Who else can I go to?

No one. I have no one else.

Growing up on my mom’s ship, never going to a proper school, and only meeting people in passing means I’ve not developed any long-lasting relationships outside of my family members. And with Mom’s husbands and consorts being such lazy good-for-nothings and forcing me to do the hard work as the eldest daughter, it’s not like I had any extra time for relationships, anyway.

I turn around and face Takemo. “I’d like to work something out if you’re amenable. A payment plan to buy back the Mikasa within six months?”

I can fly for Flyght night and day, put off this whole building-my-network thing for another six months, and maybe do some other work on the side to bring in more income. Maybe through Vivian, I can go to Athens Industries, the Duo System’s number one largest corporation, for help too. Perhaps she can make some introductions if I can keep the reason why a secret.

“What makes you think I want to sell the Mikasa?” Takemo asks and sips his coffee. He checks his wristlet. “I just acquired it, and I was looking forward to adding it to my fleet.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You’re not willing to sell it to me? Not even at what you paid for it?”

“I have no reason to do so.”

Well, shit. It looks like this guy wants to play hardball with me.

Guess what happens when people play hardball with me? They end up regretting all of their life choices.

This guy… This Takemo Diaz, sitting here in his fancy office with his bespoke suit, artisanal coffee, and attentive assistant, does not know who he’s dealing with by crossing Skylar Kawabata. I have made lemonade out of lemons so many times in my life, I might as well start a fucking lemonade empire instead of flying ships. I’m that good at turning shitty situations to my benefit.

“I see,” I say, sighing and standing up. “Well, this is a regrettable situation we’ve found ourselves in, then. It’ll only end up costing you more to sell it to me later. Are you sure you won’t sell now?”

This catches him off guard, and he freezes with his coffee cup halfway up to his mouth.

“Cost me, how?” he asks.

I don’t say.

“Last offer,” I respond.

“I’m going to have to pass,” he says, confident that he has the upper hand here.

He does not.

“Though, I do have some jobs that I think you and the Amagi would be perfect for if you’re interested. I have new clients that need something more… subtle than what I can provide.”

“I’m going to have to pass,” I parrot back to him.

“Fine,” he says, shrugging. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me. Please have your family off the Mikasa by week’s end.”

I turn to leave. This is not over.

At the door, he calls out, “It was good to finally meet you in person, Ms. Skylar. I hope this won’t be the last time we cross paths.”

“Oh, it won’t be the last time you see me,” I say, glancing over my shoulder.

I can’t help but notice his eyes are on my ass. I shift my hip to the side as I open the door and let him get a taste of what I have on offer. Yes, I will make Takemo pay for raking my family over the coals.

Because this is not the last he’ll hear of me.

This means war.