25. Michelle
MICHELLE
It’s Tuesday evening, and I’ll officially win Thursday at noon. I’m still in my office. Even though I’m ahead, I’m not taking any chances. I’m following every lead, every showing, every possible sale. I’m halfway through an email to a new client when the door opens.
Vinnie storms in. His hair’s a mess, like he’s been dragging his hands through it for hours. His jacket’s wrinkled, his tie crooked, and his face is flushed. Either he’s been crying, drinking, or both. He slams the door shut behind him, even though the building’s empty.
I’m on my feet before I even realize I’ve moved. “What’s wrong?”
“The permit,” he says. “They revoked the fucking permit.”
“What?”
“The condo project. They called this morning. I’ve been down at the department all day. It’s done.”
“They can’t do that. It was all cleared.”
He shakes his head. “They’re saying it violates some setback code. Something about stormwater runoff. Total bullshit, but they’re using it to shut us down.”
My stomach drops. “So what does that mean?”
“It means,” he says, turning to me with wild eyes, “the whole thing has to start over. New plans, new filing. I’m months out now. Maybe longer.”
“Jesus.”
Vinnie drags his hands through his hair, gripping hard. “Michelle, I’m screwed.”
“I’m sorry—”
He cuts me off with a sharp shake of his head. “You don’t get it.” His voice cracks, and the panic breaks through. “I have investors. Real ones. One guy wired me three million. I’ve already spent most of it. If this deal doesn’t go through...”
He stops. Just stands there, eyes glassy, breath uneven. “I’m on the hook for all of it.”
“How much?”
He hesitates. Then wipes both hands down his face like he’s trying to rub the number out of his head. “Four. Maybe five.”
Five million dollars.
Vinnie starts to cry. Full-on sobbing, right in front of me. The last time I saw him like this, he was just a kid. His shoulders shake as he presses both hands to his face, like he’s trying to hold himself together and failing.
“Oh, Vinnie,” I say quietly.
I cross the room and wrap my arms around him. He folds into the hug without hesitation, clinging hard.
“You have to help me,” he chokes out. “I can’t...I can’t die. Or worse, go bankrupt.”
“You’re not going to die,” I say automatically.
“These aren’t the kind of people who just walk away from a bad investment,” he says. “They’ll want their money back. All of it. With blood, if they have to.”
I don’t answer. His tears are soaking into my blazer, but I let him hold on.
“What do you need me to do?”
“I don’t know.” He pulls back enough to swipe at his face. His hands are shaking. “You always figure shit out. Just...please. Do something.”
I nod, even though I have no idea what I’m agreeing to. “Okay. I’ll fix it.”
He clings to those words like they’re a lifeline. Still crying. Still holding on. I don’t have a plan. But I know someone who might.
Dean pulls up outside the agency within minutes of my call. Vinnie’s long gone, but I still check the street before slipping into the passenger seat.
“I didn’t know who else to call,” I say.
Dean turns to me, calm but focused, like he’s already switching into problem-mode. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Vinnie.” I pause, trying to steady my voice. “The city pulled the permit on his condo’s. Everything’s shut down.”
Dean lets out a slow breath and leans back in his seat. “That’s his problem.”
“He owes people, Dean,” I say, twisting toward him. “Serious money. He can’t pay them back. He’s completely underwater.”
Dean shakes his head. “It’s not your mess to fix.”
“It is,” I say. “He’s my brother.”
His face doesn’t change, and I feel foolish for expecting him to leap at this. He’s busy. He’s probably tired. I shouldn’t have called.
“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for the door. “It’s not your problem. I’ll figure it out.”
“Wait.” His voice is softer now. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
I shake my head. “Vinnie’s the only family I’ve got. I can’t abandon him.”
Dean studies me for a long, loaded moment. There’s something unreadable behind his eyes, something I want to understand but can’t.
“You think he’d do the same for you?”
“Of course he would,” I say without hesitation.
Dean doesn’t answer right away. “I’ll fix it.”
Then he reaches for me and pulls me in. His arms wrap around my shoulders, and I lean into his chest. After a moment, he presses a soft kiss to my hair. “I love you,” he says. Then, breaking the moment gently, “I better get to it.”
I nod and step out of the car, watching him pull away from the curb. I stay there until his taillights disappear down the street.
Later, as I lock up the office and step into the quiet night, I try to name the feeling in my chest. It isn’t quite relief, but it’s close. I don’t like handing things off. I don’t like turning my problems into someone else’s. But tonight, I’m glad I did.
Not just because it’s one less fire to put out, but because I trust Dean to handle it.
I’m lucky to have him.