Chapter 7 - THE BUILDING THAT WOULDN’T BE QUIET
Graham met us at Naomi’s office the next morning.
He looked exhausted rather than angry.
That made me trust him more than I wanted to.
“I’m not here to settle a divorce score,” he said.
“I have a settlement. I intend to keep it.”
“Then why help?”
“Because your building is listed in loan documents as if the sale is certain.”
He laid down copies his attorneys had obtained during the divorce.
Bennett Urban had borrowed heavily to acquire neighboring properties.
Mercer House connected them.
Without it, the redevelopment plan fell apart.
“The lender gave Clare an extension,” Graham said.
“Based on Adrien’s assurance that you would sell.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
Six weeks.
While I was choosing an anniversary dress.
While he was asking whether I wanted children.
While he held my hand across a restaurant table and told me we should stop waiting for the perfect time.
Naomi studied the documents.
“Do these show where the necklace money came from?”
“No,” Graham said.
“But they show Cole Group guaranteed part of Bennett Urban’s debt.”
I looked up.
“His company?”
“Yes.”
“Did his board approve that?”
“That’s a question your attorney should ask.”
Naomi’s expression sharpened.
Later, June drove me to Mercer House.
I needed to see something that still belonged to my own life.
Mrs. Ortiz opened the lobby door.
“Willa, is it true?”
“What?”
“That we have ninety days.”
She handed me a notice.
A redevelopment information packet had been slipped beneath every tenant’s door.
The cover carried Bennett Urban’s logo.
Inside was a statement saying the owner supported the transition.
My name was printed beneath it.
I hadn’t approved a word.
In the bakery, Mr. Russo folded his arms.
“My wife cried all night.”
“I’m not selling,” I said.
He studied my face.
“Then why did they tell us you were?”
Because they had counted on my silence.
Because Adrien thought a signature he had rushed me through was more valuable than anything I might say afterward.
I asked everyone who had received a packet to keep it.
Naomi wanted originals.
As I photographed the lobby notice, two men entered with measuring equipment.
One held a key.
“Who gave you that?” I asked.
“Management.”
“I’m the owner.”
He checked his work order.
May you like
Then he turned the page toward me.
Adrien’s office had authorized access that morning.
