Chương 14
This time he answered immediately.
“Cross.”
We watched him listen.
His posture changed.
“What?”
He turned away.
“No, you can’t.”
Another pause.
“Who authorized that?”
His voice rose.
“Who?”
He paced toward the revolving doors.
Then he stopped.
“Tell Daniel to call me.”
Whatever came next made him close his eyes.
“No.”
His voice dropped.
“Do not send that notice until I’ve spoken to the board.”
He listened.
Then the call ended.
For several seconds, he stood with his back to us.
I had seen him receive bad news before.
A failed acquisition.
A lawsuit.
His mother’s hospitalization after a fall.
He always became sharper.
Faster.
He turned fear into instructions.
This time, he did not move.
“What happened?” I asked.
He looked at me.
For the first time that night, there was no calculation in his face.
“The bank froze the revolving facility.”
Dad’s expression hardened.
Everett swore softly.
I understood enough to feel my stomach drop.
“How much cash do you have available?”
Julian looked at my father.
“Don’t.”
“I asked,” I said.
His eyes returned to mine.
“Not enough.”
“For payroll?”
“Not if this lasts.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“You always know.”
“Not tonight.”
That was probably the most truthful thing he had said to me in months.
Chloe sat back down on the velvet bench.
She looked sick.
Everett rubbed his forehead.
“If the facility is frozen before tomorrow’s committee meeting, somebody accelerated the review.”
Dad took out his phone.
“Or somebody found something worse.”
Julian moved toward him.
“Who are you calling?”
“My office.”
“No.”
Dad looked at him.
Julian’s voice tightened.
“You said you weren’t involved.”
“I said Clarissa called me.”
“You know what I mean.”
Dad studied him.
“You’re worried Vance Capital triggered this.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Julian searched his face.
Dad’s expression did not change.
“I haven’t contacted the administrative agent tonight.”
Julian exhaled.
Then Dad added, “Martin did.”
Julian froze.
“Your accountant?”
“My managing director.”
“You said you were having dinner with your accountant.”
“I have more than one Martin in my life.”
Despite everything, I rubbed my forehead.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“Focus.”
“Right.”
He looked at Julian.
“Martin Keller received a covenant notice forty minutes ago because our retained rights require notification.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“Did he respond?”
“He asked for supporting documentation.”
“That can trigger a lender conference.”
“Yes.”
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
Julian’s anger returned.
“So you did this.”
“No.”
Dad’s voice sharpened.
“The thing that triggered this is whatever happened before he received the notice.”
Julian took another step.
“You could have waited until morning.”
“Why?”
“Because four thousand employees depend on that company.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“So do not use them as a shield now.”
The words landed.
Julian looked away.
I watched his hand close into a fist, then relax.
“You think I don’t know what’s at stake?”
Dad did not answer.
Julian laughed once.
It sounded hollow.
“I’ve been sleeping three hours a night for two months.”
He looked toward the dark restaurant.
“I’ve mortgaged everything I own.”
That caught me.
“The house?”
His eyes moved to mine.
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“The house is mortgaged?”
“It was already leveraged.”
“How much?”
He hesitated.
“Julian.”
“Eight million.”
My mouth went dry.
The house had been valued at around eleven.
I had signed nothing.
“That was your parents’ house.”
“It’s mine now.”
“And you never told me.”
“You weren’t responsible for the debt.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“What would telling you have changed?”
There it was again.
The philosophy that had governed our marriage.
If information did not change his decision, I did not need it.
I looked at him.
“It would have changed what I knew about my life.”
His face tightened.
“This is not the time.”
“It never was.”
He opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
That silence was the first apology he had given me all night, and it was not nearly enough.
Dad looked down at his phone.
“Martin says the lenders are scheduling an emergency call for midnight.”
Everett checked his watch.
“Forty-three minutes.”
Julian turned.
“I need to be on it.”
Everett nodded.
“You do.”
“I need the Apex term sheet before then.”
Everett’s expression closed.
“You don’t have one.”
“You were prepared to issue it tonight.”
“We were prepared to discuss issuing it.”
“You know what happens if the facility stays frozen.”
“Yes.”
“Then give me something I can take to the lenders.”
Everett shook his head.
“Not until Helix is explained.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“If you wait until tomorrow, there may be nothing left to buy.”
“That sounds like pressure.”
“It’s reality.”
“No.”
Everett looked at him.
“It’s your deadline.”
Julian’s shoulders dropped a fraction.
I had never seen anyone speak to him that way without consequence.
Then I understood that consequence had finally changed sides.
Chloe’s phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
“My lawyer.”
Everyone turned toward her.
She seemed startled by the attention.
“I found someone.”
“Who?” Julian asked.
Chloe looked at him.
“My lawyer.”
For the first time that evening, she sounded less afraid.
She walked away to answer.
Julian watched her.
His expression carried something almost wounded.
I wondered whether he had expected loyalty from her after spending the night demonstrating what his loyalty was worth.
Dad touched my elbow.
“Come upstairs.”
“I’m not leaving yet.”
“You’re not on the lender call.”
“No.”
“You’re not on the board.”
“No.”
“You don’t work for Cross Meridian.”
“No.”
He waited.
I knew what he was doing.
He was making me say why I was still there.
“I need to know whether people are going to lose their jobs.”
Dad’s face softened.
“You won’t know tonight.”
“I might know more.”
“Clarissa.”
“I spent three years telling myself things weren’t my responsibility because Julian didn’t include me.”
I looked at him.
“I don’t want to do that again just because I’m angry.”
He nodded slowly.
“That sounds like your mother.”
“Don’t weaponize her.”
His mouth twitched.
“Fair.”
May you like
Everett looked toward us.
“The call may need additional creditor representation.”
