Chương 7
“Yes.”
“Without speaking to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was angry.”
The answer was soft.
Chelsea had expected him to say he was protecting himself, following advice, establishing boundaries. The plainness of anger made him less impressive and more trustworthy.
“At Logan?” she asked.
“At him. At myself. Some at you, unfairly.”
“For what?”
“For living comfortably inside arrangements I had allowed.”
“You thought I was using you.”
“I thought you preferred not to know.”
Chelsea looked at the files. “I did prefer not to know.”
Albert waited.
She hated him slightly for waiting.
“I built a business while Logan handled the finances,” she said. “That was our agreement.”
“Yes.”
“I was not sitting at home ordering furniture with your money.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I have seen your work.”
“That is not the same as respecting it.”
“No.”
The word hung there.
Chelsea looked toward Evelyn’s photograph.
“Did she know about the loan?”
“She helped draft the terms.”
That surprised her.
“Evelyn wanted it secured?”
“She wanted Logan to understand it was not an inheritance.”
“Why?”
Albert’s gaze moved to the photograph.
“Because he had begun spending his inheritance before either of us was dead.”
Chelsea almost smiled. Evelyn had been capable of sentences that sounded cruel until one realized she had removed every unnecessary word.
“What would she say about this?” Chelsea asked.
“That depends on which part.”
“The notices.”
“She would say I waited too long and then acted all at once because I was afraid of the conversation.”
“Accurate.”
“Yes.”
“And what would she say about Logan?”
Albert looked down.
“She would ask why we kept making it easy for him to remain exactly as he was.”
Chelsea heard footsteps on the stairs. Margaret knocked once, then opened the door enough to push in a plate.
“You don’t have to eat them,” she said. “But I refuse to let a family crisis happen in a room with no carbohydrates.”
Albert sighed.
Margaret looked at Chelsea. “He labels leftovers with the time as well as the date.”
“That seems useful.”
“It is accusatory.”
She set down the plate and disappeared.
For the first time that day, Chelsea laughed without bitterness. Albert did too, briefly.
The laugh ended and left the room quieter.
“What do you want us to do?” Chelsea asked.
“Refinance if you can. Sell if you cannot. Present another plan if it is real.”
“Would you accept payments?”
“If the amount and term are reasonable.”
“What does reasonable mean?”
“It means the debt cannot remain fictional.”
“Would you extend the deadline?”
“No.”
“You answered quickly.”
“I have spent years answering slowly.”
Chelsea studied him.
“Logan thinks you are trying to punish him.”
“I am trying to stop punishing everyone by preventing consequences.”
“That sounds polished.”
“I had three weeks to practice.”
She glanced at the thick file. “May I copy these?”
“Some. Not the business documents that involve other clients.”
“I need to know what affects the house.”
“I will ask David to prepare a complete accounting.”
“Not for Logan. For me.”
Albert nodded.
Chelsea stood.
At the door, she looked back at the photograph of Evelyn.
“Did you take off your wedding ring because you are dating Margaret?”
Albert blinked.
Chelsea did not know why she had asked. The question had escaped through a crack in the day.
“No.”
“Good.”
“I took it off because the skin beneath it became irritated.”
“Oh.”
“Margaret is seventy-four.”
“That would not make dating impossible.”
“She owns six porcelain cats.”
Chelsea glanced toward the stairs. “That might.”
Albert’s mouth twitched.
She opened the door.
“Chelsea.”
She turned.
“I am sorry I believed knowing enough was the same as knowing.”
She considered the sentence.
“I don’t forgive you yet.”
“I did not ask.”
“That helps.”
On the drive home, Chelsea stopped at a coffee shop and bought the smallest cup they sold. She sat in the parking lot without drinking it.
A message from Logan appeared.
How bad was it?
She typed three answers and erased each one.
Finally, she wrote:
Worse than you said. Less simple than I thought.
Logan called. She declined the call.
He called again.
She turned the phone over and watched a man in a delivery van eat french fries from a paper bag. He dipped each fry in ketchup before taking a bite. The methodical movement reminded her of Albert’s files, and she became angry at the man for no reason.
When she reached home, Logan was in the living room speaking quietly on his phone. He ended the call when she entered.
“Was that Dad?” he asked.
“No.”
“What did he show you?”
“Records.”
“He had no right to share firm information.”
“He showed me our information.”
“He keeps copies of everything. He always has. That does not mean his interpretation is fair.”
“Did you include his assets in financing materials for the firm?”
Logan’s face closed.
“Did he tell you that?”
“Yes.”
“It was a projection.”
“Did the potential lender know he had not agreed?”
“The assumptions were disclosed.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“The presentation did not constitute a commitment.”
Chelsea placed her bag on a chair.
“Did you correct it in writing?”
“I clarified it.”
“Show me.”
“I do not have the email here.”
“Get it.”
“Chelsea, you are treating me like a defendant.”
“No. Defendants get lawyers before questioning. You told me lawyers make things worse.”
Logan stared at her.
Then he went upstairs.
She heard cabinet doors open in the office, followed by the rolling sound of a desk drawer. Ten minutes passed. Chelsea removed the terrace covers because the wind had strengthened. The task was unnecessary, but she could not bear watching expensive fabric strain against its ties.
When Logan returned, he carried his laptop.
He opened an email thread.
The potential lender had asked whether the listed Higgins family assets were committed to the proposed platform.
Logan’s reply read:
May you like
We anticipate onboarding the family portfolio upon launch, subject to final documentation.
Chelsea read it twice.
