23. Becca
BECCA
I’ve been in Mr. Hughes’s office a handful of times now—mostly for the land purchase.
It’s the kind of place that makes everything feel heavier and older than it is. Dark wood, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the river, leather chairs that don’t quite let you relax with their straight backs. It smells faintly like coffee and something expensive I can’t name.
The first time I sat in one of these chairs, I felt like I was playing dress-up. Now, I just feel prepared, like I have earned my place discussing my business with the top land-use lawyer in town.
Sam and I sit in the leather chairs in front of Mr. Hughes’s desk. He stands behind it and Holly is right behind him, peering over.
“Good, everyone’s here. Let’s get started.”
As Mr. Hughes takes a seat, Holly places a folder on the desk in front of us.
“I’ll just … get right into it,” she says hesitantly, psyching herself up for what is to come.
I brace without meaning to.
“I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I’m sorry.
What happened with the money shouldn’t have happened.
Not like that. Not without a plan, and definitely not without both of you agreeing to it.
” She gives Sam a side eye, then focuses on me.
“I can’t fix how it happened,” she continues, her voice gaining confidence.
“But I can take responsibility for what happens next.”
She opens the folder and slides a document across the table toward me.
“I met with Dad” She nods slightly toward him. “And an accountant. I’m restructuring the business.”
I glance down at the paperwork, scanning. A new partner is listed, one I’ve never heard of.
“Lucinda Torres?” I ask, looking back up.
Holly nods. “She’s been in the industry for twenty-five years. Opened multiple salons. She actually gave a guest lecture at my cosmetology program, and I reached out to her after everything … happened.”
I raise my eyebrows, impressed with her initiative.
“She’s buying in,” Holly continues. “Which allowed me to secure a small business loan.” She gestures lightly toward Mr. Hughes. “With his help.”
He gives a small, approving nod. “It’s a manageable structure. Conservative, which is what we want given the circumstances. With your new business plan and the ideas you’ve already implemented, I was happy to co-sign.”
Given the circumstances, I almost smile. That was the equivalent of a warm hug from Mr. Hughes. I can see that Holly feels the same way as she slides another document toward me.
“This is what I can pay back immediately,” she explains.
I look down.
$31,352.21
What is it with the Hughes siblings and their exact cents? My eyes flick back up to her.
“How?” I ask before I can stop myself. “The salon is basically built, and the inventory you need to start is heavy.”
She shrugs before continuing, “I returned inventory we hadn’t used yet, canceled two vendor contracts that had penalties but still netted out better than keeping them, sold off the high-end styling chairs we didn’t actually need to open, and …
” she hesitates for half a second, “liquidated what I could of my incredibly impressive closet.” She laughs nervously.
“That one hurt the most, if I’m being honest.”
I’m momentarily stunned. Where did these ideas come from?
Holly must read the confusion on my face before confirming my suspicions. “Sam helped supply some ideas, lent me some of your highlighted books, and set me up with his great accountant.”
I peer over at Sam, who has been suspiciously quiet.
I nod slowly, looking back down at the number. It’s not everything she owes, but it’s damn close. I see the effort, the sacrifice she has put into make this work.
“I’ll have a formal repayment schedule for the remaining balance,” she continues. “Monthly, you’ll have full visibility. Oh, I’ll share my spreadsheet!” she announces excitedly, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth.
Holly pauses before she pushes one more document forward.
“This one … is separate from the business, more personal.”
I glance over at Sam, confused, his expression matching mine. I review the document, and it takes me a second to process what I’m reading.
Rent-to-Own Agreement
Completion notice.
Balance: $0.
I look up sharply. “Holly—”
“I’m voiding it,” she says simply.
Sam shifts beside me, clearly caught off guard.
“That agreement was between Sam, me, Grandma, and Grandpa,” she continues.
“And on paper? It was fair. More than fair, actually. They knew how much Sam loved their house, their property, and all those memories. And they wanted to help me, and they did. But it created something else.” She’s quieter now.
“Tension. Between us. Between you and Sam.”
My lungs suddenly feel empty. What is she saying?
She holds my gaze. “You’ve taken care of yourself your whole life. You built something from nothing. You don’t need to be tied to something like this, complicated. Not because of me.”
I search for the words. What is there to say? Holly had an agreement in hand that assured her of $250,000, which is still a hell of a deal for Sam, since the house is easily worth $750,000 today.
“So I’m clearing it,” she finishes. “The house is paid off. There’s nothing owed to me. Not now, not later.”
Mr. Hughes clears his throat, steepling his fingers on the desk. “Holly, before we move forward with that,” he says evenly, “I want to be very clear about what you’re doing here.”
Holly stills.
“You’re walking away from a secured financial position,” he continues. “This agreement guarantees you a significant asset. Voiding it doesn’t just simplify relationships; it removes your safety net.”
The room shifts, just slightly. His eyes flick briefly to me, then back to her.
“I want to be sure this decision is made from a place of long-term stability … not pressure.”
Her expression steels. “I’m sure. I understand the financial implications, but I have been taken care of by Sam for too long. It’s time I build my own future,” she insists.
Silence settles over the room. I glance at Sam. He’s staring at the document like it might disappear if he looks away.
“You’re just … clearing it?” Sam’s voice is rough. “Hols, that’s … not nothing.”
She shrugs, but it’s tighter now. Less confident. “I know.”
I look back at Holly. This isn’t the girl who asked for help as if it were expected. This is someone who’s … figuring it out.
“Are you sure? Have you thought this through?” Sam pushes on.
She nods. “I am. I’m not asking you to be okay with everything,” she says gently, looking at me. “I just want to start fixing what I can.”
I sit back in the chair, the leather creaking under my weight. “You don’t get to just wipe things clean because it’s uncomfortable now,” I say, voice firm.
Holly flinches.
“This isn’t a reset button,” I continue. “It’s a start. That’s it.”
Her smile lights up the room with the idea of a fresh start with us. And against my better judgment, I feel it too.
“Holly, I can’t speak for Sam. The house is in his name, and the deal was structured between you two and your grandparents. I will say that the $31,000 right away is appreciated and will be used to pay off my cabin.”
“Really? Yes!” Holly exclaims, which tears a reluctant smile out of me. “Don’t forget the $352.21.”
“And the $352.21,” I affirm, suppressing a smile. “I would like you to pay back half of the investment cost to me, $37,500.”
Holly chimes in, “Of course. From what Sam told me anyway, all the money would go straight into your account. He sent me the account numbers.”
I falter. What? Was he sending all the money to me? He wasn’t even going to take credit for that. Before I can think much about it, I move on.
“That is not necessary; my investment, legally, would only need to account for half. I also realize you are running a business. And I want you to be successful. With all that you’re planning, I believe you can be.
I do not want you to pay me interest. I also want the payment plan to start three months after your salon launches, to give you some breathing room. ”
Sam goes very still beside me. I don’t look at him.
“Wha—what?” Holly splutters. “You don’t have to do that.”
Nodding, I reply, “No, I don’t. But I’m confident in your new direction, and I want to show you support.”
Holly comes around the desk, launching herself at me in a hug that nearly knocks me to the ground. “Thank you! I could not have done this without you.”
I hesitate for half a second before letting her continue squeezing me too tightly.
She straightens and looks at me. “Not just with the money, but the guidance. I wish I had opened my eyes sooner, done this differently.”
This is what accountability looks like. And I didn’t realize how badly I needed to see it.
“I won’t speak for Sam on the house; it is his. However, in my opinion, that deal is more than fair.”
Sam reaches forward and picks up the voided agreement. He doesn't say anything, only stares at it. Then he sets it back down and looks at me.