He tapped a contact and lifted the phone to his ear. I leaned slightly forward over the counter.
“Put it on speaker,” I said, voice calm. “So everyone can hear what you’re about to do in my shop.”
My father’s eyes flashed—anger, surprise, then calculation. But the customers were watching now. If he refused, he’d lose the performance advantage. So he tapped speaker. The ring tone echoed in the quiet. One ring, two. Then a voice answered, gravelly and alert.
“Yeah,” the man said. “This is Rey.”
My father smiled like he’d been waiting for this moment.
“Ray,” he said warmly, loud enough for the room, “this is Daniel Pierce. We need to talk about your tenant.”
My stomach stayed steady. I didn’t speak yet. Rey paused.
“My tenant?” he asked. “Which one?”
My father’s smile sharpened.
“The coffee shop,” he said. “Riverside Coffee. I’m her father, and I—”
I cut in gently, still calm.
“Hi, Rey,” I said, leaning closer to the phone. “It’s Mara.”
My father’s head snapped toward me. My mother’s smirk froze. Rey’s voice changed instantly. Not confused, not neutral. Recognizing.
“Mara,” he said, “hey, what’s going on?”
And in that one word, hey, I heard something my father wasn’t ready for. A relationship. Not landlord and disposable tenant. Something else. My father’s smile began to crack. His eyes flicked between my face and his phone like the device had betrayed him. He tightened his grip on it, trying to take the conversation back with volume.
“Rey,” he said sharply, “I’m calling as her father. I’m informing you there are issues you need to address. She’s running a business in your unit that—”
Rey cut him off mid-sentence.
“Who is this?” Rey asked, tone flat.
“My father blinked once.”
“Daniel Pierce,” he repeated, forced politeness. “Her father.”
A pause. Then Rey said something that made the room feel suddenly smaller.
“I don’t deal with fathers,” he said. “I deal with my tenant, Mara. Are you okay?”
My mother’s smile faltered just slightly. Laya’s phone lowered a fraction before she corrected it again. I kept my voice steady.
“I’m fine,” I said. “They walked in and threatened to call you unless I signed over part of my business. I wanted you to hear it directly.”
Silence. Then Rey exhaled, slow and annoyed.
“All right,” he said. “Daniel, you still on speaker?”
My father stiffened.
“Yes.”
“Good,” Rey replied. “Then you can hear me clearly. You don’t get to threaten my tenant, and you don’t get to call me about her lease unless you’re her attorney with written authorization.”
My father’s jaw tightened. He tried to recover.
“Rey, I own multiple properties,” he said, puffing up. “I know how leases work. She’s in violation.”
Rey’s voice stayed calm, but it sharpened.
“You don’t know how this lease works,” he said. “Because I wrote it.”
My father’s face twitched. I watched him realize this wasn’t a random landlord he could intimidate with a phone call. Rey continued.
“Mara’s lease has a business rider. It’s approved. The wiring was inspected. The permits were filed. I signed off on it personally.”
My father opened his mouth like he wanted to argue the facts out of existence. Rey didn’t let him.
“And Daniel,” he added, “if you call my number again to harass her, I’ll treat it as interference with contract, and I’ll hand it to my attorney. I don’t play games with people who try to bully women in my buildings.”
My mother’s cheeks went faintly pink. Laya’s phone shifted, catching my father’s tightening expression. My father tried a different angle, soft, manipulative.
“Rey, you don’t understand the family situation,” he said. “Mara is unstable. She makes impulsive decisions. We’re trying to protect her.”
Rey laughed once, short and humorless.
“Protect her?” he repeated. “By extorting fifteen percent of her business in the middle of her shop?”
