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"Well,” I hedge, “The reason I'm calling is I was just going over the budget for the shop. Sales haven't been going that well and I've been having some trouble financially. I'm barely able to afford all the bills. I was wondering if maybe you could give me a little extension this month, until I'm able to get the money to pay you the rent?"
The words fall out in a tumble, and I’m a little relieved once they’re out in the open, but anticipation is heavy in my gut as I wait for his answer.
He is silent for a long moment, and while I’m hoping for the best, hoping he’s just mulling it over, I know every silent second that ticks by is a bad sign. "Well, Juliette,” he says finally, “I’m sorry, I wish I could just say yes to you, but I don't know if I will be able to do that. You see I’ve had a very generous offer recently from someone who’s interested in buying the whole strip, and I can’t promise you what their rent agreement is gonna look like.”
My heart sinks, but I listen patiently as he goes on: “I really am sorry. I would very much like to help you, but I'm old and ready to retire. I’d been thinking about selling for a while now anyways…."
“It’s all right, Mr. Stevens,” I say softly, “I understand.”
"You know, maybe the new owners can help you and give you your extension. You're a nice person. Would you like their information?" He asks.
"Oh yes! Any help I can get is wonderful." I reply gratefully.
I don’t exactly have high hopes, anyone shelling out the money for a rental property like this probably isn’t going to be thrilled to immediately get a request like this. But I grab a pen and start writing it down on one of the dozens of pieces of scratch paper in front of me. He reads off a number that sounds vaguely familiar and an address
"The lady's name is Courtney. She’s been so sweet, I’m sure she’ll understand and help you out,” he tells me cheerfully even as my heart sinks with dread.
"Ok, Mr. Stevens. Thank you so much," I say as I hang up.
I study the information he gave me. "Courtney…" I mumble to myself, “It just had to be her.”
I know this woman. My old high school bully. I go to the kitchen table and look through all the papers. I find the morning newspaper and open it. There's a big article about Courtney and what a successful woman she has become. She's a ruthless real estate developer. That’s why her number seemed so familiar, it’s got a lot of threes and it’s plastered all over at least a dozen billboards throughout town.
Apparently she has been “revitalizing” sections of the town by demolishing older buildings and replacing them with expensive shopping centers. Those places are all the same. So boring, and over-priced in my opinion. I put the paper down and on a whim, I run back to the phone and tap a few buttons on the screen. "Hello?" Mr. Stevens asks again.
"Hi, Mr. Stevens, it’s Juliette, sorry to bother you again. There’s something I forgot to ask you. If it's not too much trouble could you tell me how much the offer made was and how long before the sale is final?" I hold my breath as I wait.
I'm not expecting him to answer, he doesn’t owe me any explanation, but to my surprise he does. "The sale will be final at the end of the month, unless someone comes up with a better offer before then,” he explains, and when he gives me the number, my heart sinks all over again.
The end of the month is only two weeks away. I’m not even going to be able to scrounge up rent in that time, what the hell made me think I might be able to out-bid Courtney and buy out the strip? "Oh, ok. Thank you again, Mr. Stevens. " I reply, trying and failing to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
"I really am sorry, Juliette," He apologizes once more as we hang up.
I screw my eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath before I get up and start cleaning up the table. I put every paper back where it belongs. I’ve got one last option left in my pocket, but it’s not going to be easy. The last thing I can think to do is attempt to go to the bank and take out a loan.
It’s a slim chance, but it’s all I’ve got left.
After I've cleaned up, I gather all the business papers I’m going to need and put them neatly in my purse. I go to fund a suitable outfit to wear. I'm desperately trying to distract myself because I’m a bundle of nerves and I feel like I'm going to break. I can't lose this business, but I don't know what to do.
