Linda slipped down the narrow hallway, her heart giving a sharp jolt against her ribs as she turned the brass doorknob. She stepped inside the wood-paneled room, closing the door securely behind her. The person she was scheduled to meet was sitting behind the owner's cluttered desk, their head bowed as they flipped through the white pages of a thick legal contract.
The person looked up at the sound of the latch clicking into place, their eyes instantly lighting up with relief. "Hi. I'm so glad you came. I was beginning to wonder after the massive disaster that happened in the lobby this morning."
"Of course I came," Linda said, moving toward the center of the room. "We went over the logistical steps yesterday."
Her knees felt slightly shaky under the weight of the lingering tension from the confrontation yesterday, so she sat down in the leather chair directly opposite the desk, trying to steady her breathing. She looked at the white documents curiously.
The person tapped the top sheet with their thumb.
"Yesterday you asked me how you could possibly believe a single thing that is being said right now. Well, aside from the obvious measure of checking the facts for yourself and speaking to your various contacts who know..." The person flipped the document around, sliding the dense pages across the polished wood surface toward her position. "How about this? Read that over. Sign it. And if anything I tell you turns out to be untrue, within reasonable terms, because some answers might be ambiguous or a question could be misconstrued, but any blatant lies, cover-ups, or omissions will immediately put the penalties of this contract into effect."
Linda looked down at the document, her eyes widening as she skimmed the dense legal paragraphs. She sucked in a sharp breath, her head shooting up to stare across the desk.
"This can't be real. You can't possibly be serious?" She felt shell-shocked, her mind reeling as she processed the immense liabilities tied to putting the person's signature on the page.
"That's just to prove to you just how serious I am," the person told her, their gaze unwavering as they met her look. "And to assure you that from here on out, you'll only get the unvarnished truth from my side of the table."
"Yes, but this..." Linda swallowed hard, feeling her throat constrict as she glanced back at the text. "It's way too much."
"No, it's too little as far as I'm concerned," the person clipped, their eyes glinting with raw emotion. "I'm going to do whatever it takes to gain your trust back."
Linda shook her head gently, her fingers resting against the edge of the desk blotter. "You're doing more than enough already. But I cannot sign this document."
The person leaned back against the leather cushion, their jaw setting into a rigid, stubborn line. "Then I can't offer any more assistance with the hotel defense strategy."
Linda stared at the person in pure surprise, her brow furrowing. "Are you for real right now?"
"I'm trying to prove myself to you," the person told her, their tone firm, leaving no room for negotiation. "This shows you the exact extent of my commitment to saving your home." The person reached into their jacket pocket, sliding a heavy gold pen across the paper toward her hand. "Now sign it, or I get up and walk right out that door. I will leave the bay tonight, and you will never see me again."
A sudden surge of panic swept through her chest, her heart thudding violently against her ribs at the thought of losing the person or not seeing them again. There were still so many unanswered questions, and she knew she couldn’t have the person walking away now. She glanced back down at the document, quickly scanning the two pages. As far as her own legal eye could tell, the massive financial and personal liabilities outlined in the terms solely affected the person sitting across from her.
She let out a slow, defeated breath, shaking her head as she reluctantly gripped the gold pen and signed her name on the designated line. The other person took the pen from her fingers, immediately scrawling their own signature directly beside hers.
"There," the person said quietly, then retrieved their phone to text someone else.
Within a few short minutes, a firm knock sounded against the wood panel. Pete stepped into the office, a tall, sharply dressed professional in a tailored gray suit, following him.
"Hello, Ms. Heart," the newcomer greeted her, offering a polite, practiced nod as Pete closed the door to leave them in private. "I'm Hugh Norman, a senior attorney at Norman and Gail."
Linda's brows shot up to her hairline. Norman and Gail was one of the most prestigious, high-leverage corporate law firms in Miami, known for handling massive real estate acquisitions. "I'll be representing you personally on this matter moving forward."
Linda's head shot back toward the person sitting behind the desk, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Is Mr. Norman your corporate attorney?"
"No, he belongs to you now," the person told her confidently. "Compliments of my company."
"Again, that's incredibly generous of you, but I cannot accept this kind of retainer," Linda stated, her mind struggling to process how surreal the situation had become.
"I'm going to insist," the person said, leaning forward to rest their forearms on the desk wood. "You see, we need to keep these discussions strictly between us, which means you can't go to your family's normal attorney. If you do, the legal trail will alertthe wrong people, we'll have to stop meeting like this, and then you won't get the specific answers you want from me. I don't want to stop meeting like this, and you know the exact reasons why we have to maintain this cover."
Linda let out a long, heavy breath. "Fine. But just so we're clear, I'm not happy about the manipulation."
"For now, it's what needs to be done to stay ahead of the game," the person pointed out, and Linda offered a reluctant nod of agreement.
Norman took the signed document from the desk, pulling a heavy stamp from his briefcase to formalize the signatures. "I'll ensure the official copies are routed directly to the other parties' legal representatives, and I'll retain Ms. Heart's copy in our private vault." He slid a thick embossed card across the table. "Here is my direct card, Ms. Heart. Contact me at any hour of the day should you need me for anything."
With a final professional nod, the attorney followed Pete back out into the main dining area, closing the heavy office door behind them to grant them total privacy.
As she sat in stunned silence at what just happened, a phrase her teenagers used constantly popped into Linda’s head, and she let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Well, that just happened."
