Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
VIOLET
D ue to the abrupt nature of his departure, Chase hadn’t had the time to arrange a sitter for Jameson. So I’d done him a favor and agreed. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he and Trey were in cahoots to wear me down. My son was in his happy place spending every minute in the backyard with the lovable Irish setter while I sat inside and seethed.
Damn you, Chase Greenleaf.
I had let this man infiltrate every part of my life. He was tied to my work, my home, and my kids. Last night, I’d given him some of the last parts of me he didn’t already possess. But my biggest mistake had been letting myself fall. I was incurably in love with Chase Noble Greenleaf. I loved him and he was gone.
He’ll only be gone a few days.
I repeated the words he’d said to me, words my intellect believed. But memory was a bitch. Todd had said the same thing to me scores of times. In fact he’d said the exact same thing the last time he had gone to California. Him being “gone a few days” had turned into him not coming back alive.
I can’t do this again.
It was obvious from this “project” he and Forrest were working on—Chase was back in the fray. He was turning into a firefighter again. He’d sworn to me that he wasn’t doing anything dangerous, but it was only a matter of time. Firefighters didn’t work desk jobs. There was no such thing as a trivial pursuit. Firefighting was in Chase’s blood. Seeing him at the engagement party surrounded by his friends proved what I’d tried to ignore. Chase hadn’t hung up his uniform for good.
You’ve got to move forward , I told myself.
It meant I had to press “unpause.” For weeks, I’d dragged my feet on my plan to strike out on my own. I’d told myself it was because of the trial—and how busy I was from needing to get ahead of my work. But some part of it had been about what I hoped was happening between me and Chase.
So I finally did it. I opened the contact I’d had since Rodney texted it to me after that first date. The real estate agent’s phone number had sat, unused, in my phone. So, while Bri played at a friend’s house and Trey rolled with Jameson around in the backyard, I made the overdue phone call—the one that stood to change our lives.
Dick Wiener was an average-height, clean-shaven white man who kind of reminded me of Rodney. He was on the early side of middle-aged with intense, light eyes. He drove an impractical car—as I discovered when he pulled up to the curb in front of the building and had to make a twenty-point turn to squeeze his enormous truck into a parking space—and he looked like he spent a lot of time in the gym.
From the way Dick greeted me—asking me how long I’d known “Rod”—I could tell he didn’t know much about our status. That part was a relief. I hadn’t talked to Rodney in the weeks since I’d let him down. One of the things I’d liked most about him was how much he’d gotten behind the idea of me starting my business. Out of all the things he’d loved talking about, he’d loved talking about that.
True, at times, Rodney’s business brainstorming had felt like one long monologue, but some of it had given me ideas. And the parts that hadn’t expanded my thinking had taken on a pep talk kind of feel. Standing inside the space I’d passed by a hundred times—on the other side of the window I’d practically pressed my nose up against to see inside—I needed that encouragement now.
“Can I ask how you plan to use the space?” Dick wanted to know. “Rodney said something about an interior design business. I’ll admit, I don’t know much about those.”
My eyes continued scanning the empty room, even as I answered the question.
“The downstairs would be the inspiration room.” I repeated the name I’d given it in my business plan, seeing it come alive in my mind. “It’s where I would put pieces on display, like a showroom for my clients to peruse different looks and styles. I’d put the consultation desk right there, in the back…” I motioned left. “And I’d have a play lounge on the other side, so that clients could bring their kids.”
I could see it—could truly see all of it in my mind’s eye. It unfolded in front of me as I described it. Standing inside the space made it so real.
“Upstairs in the loft,” I went on, “is where I would have my private offices and also my sample gallery.”
Dick looked at me like he had no idea what a sample gallery was. I listened with half an ear as he listed off features I could mostly see myself. But most of my attention was fixated on my own vision.
I’d come into the meeting knowing the listing price. I couldn’t afford it just yet, even if I took out a second mortgage on my house. And I’d done enough research to know that I was a risky prospect to receive a personal loan. A lack of earning history would hurt me and quitting my job with Chase would mean I was losing my stable income stream. It meant I had to come up with a lot of it in cash.
“Is the owner willing to come down on price?” I asked Dick directly. “I know this building’s been on the market for quite some time.”
Two hundred seventy-six days exactly according to the commercial real estate website I’d been using.
“Two weeks ago, I’d have said yes. But there’s another interested party. It’s a good thing you called me when you did.”
The bubble of happiness I’d inhabited for the ten minutes since we’d arrived burst abruptly.
Another interested party?
“How interested?” I asked bluntly.
“Very. It’s a restaurant group from Nashville. They’ve already filed for a liquor license. If all goes in their favor, they’ll be making a cash offer at the asking price.”
No.
The sting of tears came upon me quickly, though I didn’t let them fall. The past few days had been a lot. For the first elation I’d felt since Chase had gone to be crushed so quickly…it devastated me.
“How long do I have to put in a competing offer?”
“The sooner the better,” he said. “And don’t be surprised if it turns into a bidding war.”
It wasn’t often that I “just dropped by” Katrina’s office. It was where I found myself after leaving my meeting with Dick. I’d taken the sort of long, aimless drive I used to take when my kids wouldn’t sleep. This time, it was me who needed the scenery around me, the hum of the engine, and the rocking of the car to shift into a better space.
The drive didn’t quite calm me, but it gave me the privacy to shed a few tears. The plain truth was, I didn’t have the money. I had banked on my ability to negotiate the price and I didn’t have a plan B. It left me with one choice, and that was only if I still had the option. I had to try to settle the case. It was the only way I could guarantee the money, and be in a position to pay it in cash.
Chase told me to stay the course.
And he wasn’t the only one. I’d heard encouragement from all sides—friends who had told me to keep the faith about the trial. I appreciated the support but it felt irresponsible to keep ignoring the facts. I’d lost the case once already. Katrina’s new investigation was turning up clues, but nothing that would clinch the case. Legally speaking, I had nothing. Was I really willing to stake my whole life—my whole future—on winning against an insurance company? It was Gambling 101: the house always wins.
“A callback would have sufficed,” Katrina remarked when I walked into her office. It was the surprise on her face at seeing me that alerted me to the unprecedented nature of coming here unannounced.
“A callback?” I momentarily forgot the speech I’d been set to give her.
“It’s only been five minutes since I called. Were you in the neighborhood or something?”
“No…” I said it slowly and unpocketed my phone. Indeed, I had a missed call from Katrina. It showed me how off-kilter I was. The stress from all of this was compromising my basic ability to perform mundane tasks like hearing my phone ring and picking up.
“Well, it’s lucky you’re here now.” For some reason, Katrina was smiling. “We got a break in the case. Precedent that another policy in an accidental death sustained out of state was paid out. It wasn’t in relation to the fire that killed Todd—it wasn’t even in the same year—but it’s something. It will let us challenge their questioning of your claim.”
“How tight is your case?” I didn’t sound excited, even to my own ears. I only sounded tired. And I really was. We were going on year four of legal proceedings.
“It’s the most promising lead we’ve gotten so far.” Katrina was still smiling. “My job now is to understand whether there are any issues within state law that would impede us from making that case.”
I sat down in one of the chairs in front of Katrina’s desk, defeated. Only then did she begin to look concerned.
“I need to win this case.” A lump had risen in my throat. “I need the money,” I finally said. “I came here to tell you I wanted to settle—to ask whether the offer is still open on their end.”
Katrina’s look was sorrowful. “As your attorney, if you direct me to do so, I’m obliged to ask.”
“But?”
“But asking to settle now would be a strong signal that we don’t think we have a case. I would be shocked if they gave you the 500,000 dollars. They might offer you a token amount to free up their attorneys to avoid time spent at trial. But—legally speaking—for them to offer you anything more at this point would be a bad move.”
A deep wave of dread and disappointment crashed over me—even larger than the wave from an hour and a half ago when Dick had told me about the other bidder.
“I can ask opposing counsel if a settlement is still on the table if you would like me to, but I don’t think it’s in your best interests.”
“I guess I’m stuck, then.” Now, I might actually cry. Katrina had seen it before. My grief had been so recent—so sharp—that the last trial had taken a serious toll.
“I’m sorry for whatever has changed in your financial situation.” Her eyes were full of compassion. “I hear that you have a need for the money. Just remember—a settlement isn’t the only way. It’s still a new trial. A new judge, new jury, new evidence. All of this could still go your way.”