Chapter 22 - Micah
Kieran cornered me before work the following morning, just as I was pulling on my sneakers. “Hey,” he said, stepping between me and the door.
“Hi.” I frowned at him, confused.
“So listen. What you do in your own time is your business, right?”
I sighed, suspecting I knew exactly where this was going. “Yes, yes it is. Why do you ask?”
“I know you and Asher are… something. I don’t know what, exactly, but you’re both really shitty at hiding it.”
I tried to pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Sorry, what?”
He rolled his eyes. “I saw you checking him out yesterday. Everyone saw. And he was returning it right back. You were practically eye-fucking each other right there on set.”
I hummed and looked at my sneakers. “You’re really reaching.”
With a snort, Kieran continued. “And then I know you two were up to something in the trailer yesterday. I don’t know what I interrupted, but it was obvious something was going on.”
Reluctantly, I straightened up and met his gaze. “Okay.”
He laughed a little. “Okay?”
Holding my hands wide, palms up, I sighed. “What do you want me to say?”
Kieran drew back a little, frowning. “I just want you to be honest with me. You’re my best friend and my roommate. I think I deserve a little honesty.”
Guilt hit me, sour and hot, and I nodded and exhaled slowly through my nose. “It’s not public knowledge, but yes, we’re…” I gestured vaguely in the air.
Kieran laughed again, his smile back. “Fucking?”
“Close enough.”
“I thought he was straight.”
“So did I. So did he. I guess things changed.” I paused for a moment.
“Look, you and I both know that dating is hard in this business. We never know where the next job is going to take us. Asher and I aren’t interested in long distance.
So this is more of a ‘here for a good time, not for a long time,’ kind of thing.
Besides, he’s still figuring out his sexuality.
I don’t want to complicate that for him by trying to do the relationship thing.
So please, just keep this between us.” I took a deep, slow breath, relieved to have someone to talk to about it all.
“Okay,” Kieran said softly, holding his hands up in surrender. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Thank you for asking, though. It’s nice not to have to carry the secret alone.” I glanced at my phone quickly. “Can we head out now? It’s getting late and Max is going to have a coronary if we aren’t on set at least close to on time.”
He nodded and put his hand on the doorknob, and his tone was teasing when he spoke. “What’s taking you so long, then? We’ve got to get going.”
I casually flipped him the bird before standing. “Let’s go.”
The workday went by as slowly as someone pouring molasses in the winter, as my grandma would've said. Between trying to focus on anything but Asher and the anxiety creeping back in about Phillip, my scattered brain was screaming for a break by the time Max told us we were done for the day. I’d hoped to catch up with Asher, but when I checked my phone, I had a voicemail from the attorney requesting that I come by his office when I finished work for the day.
I made my way into town and parked nearby before walking the couple of blocks to his office. The day was starting to cool off, but I still found myself sighing in relief as I stepped inside the office building.
The entrance to the building was a wide-open space, looking more like an art gallery than a lawyer’s office, except with a reception desk near the front of the room. The receptionist straightened up when I entered and gave me a friendly smile.
“Can I help you?”
I cleared my throat and nodded. “I’m here to see Mr. Dixon. He was looking over some documents for me. I got a voicemail that I should come by this afternoon to discuss it.”
“Oh, yes,” she said brightly. “Mr. Pollard, right?” When I nodded, she gestured toward a set of empty chairs off to the side. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll give Ron a call to let him know you’re here.”
I did as she’d instructed, taking a seat while she picked up the handset of her phone to make a quick call. It wasn’t long until she was hanging up and speaking to me again.
“You’re welcome to head on back. His office is labeled and the door should be open.”
“Thanks,” I murmured before standing and walking down the long corridor until I found the correct office.
Mr. Dixon had his head down, scribbling notes in the margins of a document feverishly, as focused as I’d ever seen anyone be.
I didn’t want to startle him, so I debated about what to do for a few moments.
Before entering, I knocked on the doorframe and waited to be acknowledged.
He looked up and gave me a sincere smile. “Micah, it’s good to see you again. Come in, please. Have a seat.” He gestured at the chairs in front of his desk, dark cherry wood wrapped in leather, and I sat down, anxiety coursing through me.
“So you’ve looked over the contract?”
He frowned and nodded. “I have. Give me just a second to pull everything up.” Ron turned to the side and tapped something into his computer before he rummaged around his desk for the thick envelope I’d given him with Phillip’s proposal for the transfer of the condo.
“I’ll be honest with you, Micah. I’ve never seen anything quite like this before, and I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my day. ”
Dread settled in my stomach as he spoke. I could only imagine what he meant. Phillip was a deceitful asshole and I wouldn’t put anything past him. “Great,” I muttered. “What’s the news?”
“Well…” He pulled out the papers and spread them on his desk, facing me. Words were scribbled in the margins and there were several sticky notes on every page. “I’ve made some notes on the lines that caused me concern.”
My eyebrows shot up. “This looks like a lot.”
“You’re not wrong. There are a lot of notes here. But this last page, that’s the one that you’re going to want to look at first.”
I picked up that page and glanced at the notes he’d written first. In a tight scrawl, he’d outlined some concerns, but the one that jumped out at me was a passage he’d highlighted excerpts from.
Subject to and expressly conditioned upon compliance with the requirements set forth herein…
the second party… shall not be entitled to…
any proceeds arising from the sale, assignment, transfer, conveyance, liquidation, or other disposition of the condominium…
unless and until the Parties have entered into a legally valid marriage…
and such marriage has remained in full force…
for a period of no fewer than twelve consecutive months.
I looked up at Ron. “Wait—what?”
He grimaced and nodded. “He wants to withhold funds until you marry him. And stay married for a full year.”
I read it again, over and over until my eyes started to glaze.
It was written to sound so complex, but I saw what he was demanding.
“He can’t do that. Can he?” My stomach ached with an intense anxiety at the thought of being tied to Phillip for another full year or more. And married? What was he thinking?
Ron shook his head and chuckled. “He definitely cannot. Not without your signature, which he doesn't have. Glad you didn’t just sign blindly. This would be different if it were an inheritance—they can always set conditions on those—but since you two bought the condo together, we can make a legal case that the proceeds of the sale must be split evenly. Don’t worry.
This is an open-and-shut case. I’ll draw up the correct documents and get them over to you in the next day or two. Sound good?”
I nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Thanks again, Ron.”
“Of course. I’ll be in touch.”
I stood and exited the office, making the walk back to my car quickly, my mind racing. He tried to trap me into marrying him. Over what amounted to maybe a hundred thousand dollars. What the actual fuck was happening to my life?