Fearless Sinner (Empire of Sinners #3)

Chapter 7

Chloe

Chapter Seven

Dr. Chase gives me his usual sympathetic smile but today I can tell something has changed.

Roxanne and I are in his office, sitting on the other side of his desk while he’s in a large chair that reminds me of something you’d find in an executive office.

Dr. Chase wanted to see us to talk about Mom’s progress. Or rather lack thereof. She’s not awake yet.

“How are you both keeping?” He looks from Roxanne to me.

“We’re doing our best,” Roxanne answers with a polite smile.

My true answer to that question has so many parts we’d be here until lunchtime if I were to tell him how I felt.

The short answer to the question is that every day feels worse than the last. The longer Mom stays in a coma, the more distressed I become.

Not to mention the impact of discovering that my mother tried to find me, and I may never get to speak to her again.

“I’m here,” I decide to say. That’s what Dad used to say, especially toward the end when his cancer robbed him of strength and he became bedridden.

Dr. Chase nods, understanding. “It’s been a few days now that Rosaline has been in a coma. While her vitals are stronger, we’re very concerned about her heart. Her condition is making it harder for her to push through and wake up.”

“What does that mean?” I pray he’s not going to tell us that there’s nothing they can do.

“It means that we think she will need a new heart.”

His words are like ice, numbing my body.

“A heart transplant?” Roxanne checks.

Dr. Chase nods. “Yes. Rosaline has what we call end-stage heart failure.”

My hand falls off my lap and a surge of weakness spreads over me. It makes me feel like I might wither away into nothing. Roxanne places a hand to her chest, then she reaches across and takes my hand.

“Heart… failure.” My words are a soft mumble of almost incoherent sounds.

“I’m so sorry. Your mother has had a lot of what I call base-level treatments. They simply take the edge off the problem with the hope that it might help the healing. I explained to her that there was always a chance it wouldn’t work, but by the time she came to me it was all she could afford to do.”

Because of Harlan.

And because I wasn’t here. Everyone seems tapped out. If I’d been here I could have helped. Even if I’d come back months ago. Maybe I would have seen Harlan for the bastard he is.

“What happens now? Is there an insane waiting list for a heart transplant? And doesn’t it cost a lot?” Roxanne asks, tapping my hand in an attempt to reassure me.

“That’s the core of what I wanted to speak to you about. With your permission, I’d like to place Rosaline on the waiting list. Because of the severity of her condition she will be placed on the priority list. As for cost, I know that’s a problem.” He holds my gaze for a moment before looking at Roxanne. “Right now, we’re looking at two hundred thousand dollars, and that’s on the lower end of the spectrum.”

“Oh my God.” I bring a trembling hand to my mouth.

“I have spoken with your mother’s insurance company and managed to get them to be flexible because she’s been a member of their company for over twenty years. They will pay for the pre-transplant care, hospital stay, and her post-transplant care, but you’d need to pay the excess of two hundred thousand.”

God, I can’t breathe. I can’t. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts and even then, my head feels like it’s going to spin right off my body.

Why does it feel like when we solve one problem, we get two more very fucked-up ones?

It took everything in me to go and see Cillian yesterday. I didn’t know what the hell I’d be walking into. I half expected to find him in a lair and was wildly surprised by the elegance of his bank. He owns a bank, and here I am without a cent to my name.

I sent off the loan application yesterday after my meeting with Cillian. I wanted to borrow half a million. The additional two hundred and fifty thousand dollars was to put into the restaurant. Roxanne told me they have debts, and they owe suppliers and staff. The place also needs some renovations. But this news… we’re going to have to use the money to save Mom.

“I’ve applied for a loan.” I try to sound positive, taking into consideration that Dr. Chase seems to have gone above and beyond to help Mom. I know he didn’t have to do that.

“That’s good. When will you hear back from them?” His bushy brows lift with the hope of this new possibility.

“I have a meeting tomorrow. The loan is for business development, so you send the application off first then an advisor meets with you to hear your pitch. After that the bank takes a few days to consider the whole application. So maybe a week tops. Maybe less.” I’m hoping it will be less.

“Okay. This sounds promising.” Dr. Chase smiles.

“Thank you, and thanks for contacting the insurance company. I’m sure the costs would be substantially higher if you hadn’t gotten them to agree to pay for all the other parts of the treatment.”

“That’s not a problem. It was my pleasure to help. For now, we can go ahead and do the paperwork. Then I guess we’ll just have to wait to hear from the bank. And for your mother to wake up.”

“Can the surgery be performed with her in a coma?” Roxanne asks with an edge of worry in her voice.

“It can, but our hope is that she will wake up before. There have been many instances of procedures like this performed on coma patients. It’s a little riskier because of everything involved, but we know that a new heart would be best for her.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“What happens if I don’t get the loan? What happens to her?” I quickly glance at Roxanne, who is wearing the same expression of fear and dread I feel coursing through me.

“I have to be… honest with you. While we’d do everything we can to come up with an alternative treatment plan, it would never be as effective as getting a new heart. She’s reached the stage where a transplant would be the utmost that we could do.”

So, she’d die.

If I fail, my mother dies.

“Just try to stay focused,” Dr. Chase says. “Everyone can only do what they can do. That includes the two of you. Do you have any other questions?”

Roxanne and I both shake our heads.

“Okay, here are the documents. Sign them and I’ll do the rest.” He hands them to me.

I go through each one and sign.

Minutes later Roxanne and I are outside walking around the visitors' garden. We’re waiting for visiting hours to start so we can see Mom.

“I don’t know what to do if you don’t get that loan.” Roxanne glances at me.

“I don’t know what to do either.”

“The situation is bad enough with finding the money owed to Cillian, but this is bad, bad, bad. I didn’t know Aunt Rosaline was so sick.”

“And I wasn’t here.” Knowing my mother, she would have hidden her pain from everyone and only went to the doctor when she realized there was nothing more she could do on her own.

“You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“But I do, every day. I have to get that loan, Roxanne. The house and the restaurant were important to me, but now we’re talking about Mom’s life.”

“I know.” She nods and blinks back tears. “Let’s just have hope. I will try to apply for a loan, too, and speak to a few people who know your mom. Maybe we can raise the money.”

“Yeah.” It’s a good idea, but that might take forever. Dr. Chase sounded like Mom needed the transplant yesterday.

As we continue walking, I try to fill my heart with hope.

Like Dr. Chase said, everyone can only do what they can do.

This is all I can do.

If I can convince the head of the Irish mafia to give me an extension to repay our debt to him, then hopefully I can convince the bank to loan me the money.

Granted, I doubt the bank’s advisor will look at me with the same desire in their eyes as Cillian O’Ridian. And that wild interest in finding out who I am. Or my dancing. But I have to try.

I always have to try because not trying means accepting failure.

I will never do that to myself again. And definitely not when it comes to my mother.

I’ve been waiting for the bank manager for a little over an hour.

Although she sent her secretary to tell me she was delayed and would be with me as soon as possible, my paranoia is telling me this is not a good sign.

I keep thinking something is wrong and I’m not going to get through.I know negative thoughts like that will get me nowhere, but I can’t help it.I don’t think I’ve ever had to wait this long in any bank.

Then again, I’ve never applied for a loan, and especially not a loan of this magnitude.

I run my fingers over the fabric of my dress to straighten out the invisible wrinkles.It’s just something to do with my hands.I had my phone out earlier but got bored of looking at YouTube videos about how to set up a dance studio.

I’ve enquired about a space downtown that would be perfect for a studio. I’ve been invited to look at it on Monday. Such a thing is not in the cards for me yet, but I needed to do it to keep myself sane.

In my journey to recovery I’ve come to realize that you always need to have something to aim for. No matter how unrealistic it may seem. April told me once that if you can visualize it you can do it. But back then I just wanted to be myself again. Someone who was confident enough to dance on a stage in front of a thousand people and act like she owned the world.

While I’m in this conundrum of trying to save my family, I’m saving myself, too, by dreaming.

I also have a job interview this Friday evening for a job I don’t think I’ll get. It’s a dance teacher position at Garner Preparatory, the kind of private school where celebrities send their children.

I aimed high. I figured that maybe a good monthly salary could be set aside to help Mom.

They have a group interview first, which is more like a fancy gathering, and by the end of the night you know whether you made it to the next stage, which is the actual interview.

I straighten when my name is called. The kind-faced secretary who greeted me earlier approaches.

“Mrs. Grimfrost is ready for you now,” she says, and I smile to mask my nerves.

“Thank you.”

“Follow me.”

My heels click on the marble floor as I follow her down the corridor. She leads me up the first flight of stairs and past an open-plan office with several people at their desks and headsets attached to their heads.

At the end of that corridor is a larger wooden door with the word Manager embossed on a gold plaque.

The secretary opens the door to reveal a sophisticated elderly lady with ice-blue eyes and silver hair I'm guessing is Mrs. Grimfrost.She’s well dressed in a business suit and the decadent scent of Chanel No.5 envelopes me as I walk into the office. She stands to greet me with a smile while her secretary takes her leave.

“Good morning. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting,” Mrs. Grimfrost apologizes.

“That’s okay. I understand you were busy.”

“Thank you. Please sit.”

I sit and pray hard that this will work. I seemed to tick all the boxes, so here’s hoping.

Mrs. Grimfrost steeples her fingers and rests her elbows on the shiny surface of her mahogany desk.

“May I call you Chloe?”

“Of course.”

“Great. Well, Chloe, I’ve looked over your application and the business you’re hoping to invest in.I understand the restaurant still belongs to your mother.Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.” I sound nervous.And I think she can tell.

“That’s all fine. Before I hear your pitch, I want to be real with you. Is that okay?”

Oh God, here we go. “Yes, of course.”

“Under normal circumstances I would have agreed to a much smaller loan amount.” She pauses, and so does my heart. “But this loan is quite substantial and there are some issues that concern me.”

“What sort of issues?”

“We tend to give loans to business investors who will undoubtedly achieve success. However, your mother’s restaurant has been losing money for nearly two years. In fact there seems more of a possibility of it going out of business.”

“I would like to save it so that doesn’t happen.”

“I understand that, but the restaurant business is a tough one.Especially when you’re already in the hole.” She places her hands on the desk and sits back against her chair. “It’s not simply about injecting a load of money into the business to revive it. Some people go through a whole brand overhaul. I’m not even sure that the money you’ve applied for is enough for that, along with everything else you need to do to fix the place and pay the debts. The prospect of you getting this loan doesn’t look good.”

My stomach tightens as though a wrench is clamped around it, squeezing. “Does that mean I didn't get it?”

“No. I will still hear your pitch, and we’ll still go through the normal process of assessment with our financial analysts. They’ll conduct a deeper dive into the business and look at the forecast based on previous performance. The only thing you have in your corner is the fact that the business has been running for over eighty years.”

“I hope it will be enough.”

“Me too. It’s always sad to see businesses like that go under, especially when it’s a family business.”

“It would really mean a lot to me if I got that loan. My mother is currently in a coma in the hospital. I’d hate for her to wake up and realize everything is gone.”

The firmness in her expression loosens with compassion, and she seems more personable for hearing my dilemma. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Let’s see what we can do. Ready to give me your pitch?”

“Yes.” I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

I gave a killer speech. Something that would win me an Oscar if I were an actor in a summer blockbuster movie.

Roxanne helped me put the pitch together last night, then we spent hours practicing. It seemed to pay off, at least in the department of winning Mrs. Grimfrost over. Now I have to wait.

I’m at the restaurant with Roxanne and two other members of staff. I came here straight after my interview. I’ve been using my waitressing skills to help out.

The place is busier than it’s been in the last few days. That’s good for us, although getting business has never really been the problem.

Growing up, I can’t remember a time when the restaurant wasn’t packed.

The problem we’re facing now is what’s going on behind the scenes.

I carry out the orders for two tables and hand them over, then I’m back in the kitchen to take the next orders.

Luis, our chef, is loving my speed, so is Roxanne.

“You are super amazing at this.” He chuckles, handing me two plates of our signature lasagna.

“Thank you. I do my best.”

“I remember the summer you first worked here. It was a disaster.”

I didn’t think anything could make me smile right now, but I do because of the memory. I was so bad I set the kitchen on fire. Mom had to fire me. “I’m making up for it now.”

“You sure are. Great to have you back, kiddo.”

“Thanks, it’s great to be back.” I just wish the circumstances were better.

The door swings open across from us and a nervous Roxanne walks in.

“Holy hell,” she breathes out and quickens her stride toward me.

“What’s happened?” I don’t know if I can take any more shocks or surprises.

“Um… Cillian O’Ridian is here.”

Heat crawls into my belly and settles there like stagnant water. “What?”

“He’s here and he’s asking for you.”

A shaky breath ripples in my throat and I swallow. “Me?” I point to myself as if there are any other Chloes in here.

“Yeah. You.”