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“When we were in the process of divorcing, Dane offered to put some money aside for me despite the agreement. I refused, telling him I only wanted the building, nothing more. He agreed, and as far as I was concerned, that was that.” I cringed, shaking my head at my own naïveté. “It was a painful time. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I suppose, but what in the world could his family want with a rundown building on the edge of town anyway?”
“What do they want with it?”
“Apparently, a big industrial park is going in and they’ve already bought up the surrounding businesses.”
“For what? To sell them for profit?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“So, what were previously rundown buildings on the edge of town have become premium real estate.”
I sighed. “I suppose. Only the Townsend family is already richer than God. I don’t get it.”
Jay shook his head. “Rich people are never rich enough. According to them.”
I bit at my lip. “I guess. Only . . . Luella Townsend has always hated me. I never imagined she’d still feel that after all this time.”
His expression was somber. “She’s a powerful enemy to have. I looked her up. From what I could find online, she’s practically royalty here in Colorado. Why does she hate you?”
“She always has. I thought it had to do with the fact that we didn’t have much money and she viewed me as some little gold digger trying to steal her grandson and his fortune. Even after I signed the prenup, though, she never thawed. And apparently, her disdain for me is alive and well. I went to see her at her country club and she was as heartless as ever.”
“You told her the business is your life, right?”
I stared at him for a moment, his words taking me off guard. The business was my life, though. He was right. God, it was all I had. I was twenty-seven years old and it was all I had. Maybe that was pitiful, but it was true. I nodded.
“She’s giving me thirty days to vacate the premises.”
Jay pressed his lips together, his face taking on the expression it did when he was problem solving. After a minute, he asked, “Have you thought about calling your ex?”
A hot rush of anxiety coursed through me. “No,” I breathed, shaking my head. “No, I don’t want to talk to Dane.”
“Not even to save Thistles and Thatch? Not to save the whole wedding mall?”
“What can he do? I have to call a lawyer, but I did a search on Google, and my situation doesn’t look good. I signed that prenup. I knew exactly what it said.”
“So, you think Dane knows about this?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Audra, court cases have been won because of verbal contracts. What you and Dane had was a verbal contract. If he agrees to that, you could have a good chance against his grandmother.”
I blinked. A tiny trickle of hope ran down my spine, but so, too, did a bolt of fear. I couldn’t talk to Dane. I didn’t ever want to talk to Dane again. I . . . couldn’t. And more so, he wouldn’t want to speak to me either. Not then. Not now. Not ever.
“Call him, Audra. At least to find out if he knows about this. Best-case scenario, he doesn’t, disagrees with this awful thing his grandmother is doing to you, and can do something to stop her. Even if your legal case doesn’t look good, maybe she’ll listen to him and you can avoid court altogether.”
“If he’s not in on it.”
“Right. But you won’t know unless you talk to him.”
I bit at my lip again, feeling uncertain, but also slightly better than I had before. I’d considered calling Dane earlier, but dismissed it when just the thought gave me stomach cramps, opting instead to do a Google search on the topic of prenuptial agreements and property ownership. When that yielded bad news, I’d left Jay a voicemail and curled up on the couch. But hearing Jay’s insistence that I needed to be proactive and call Dane, and with the possibility that I did have some actual ammunition—a verbal contract—I felt a little invigorated.
Call Dane? Call Dane. I took a deep breath. It’d been seven years. I could do this. If it meant saving my business—the one thing in the world I lived for—then I could do this.
I smiled softly. “Thank you, Jay. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I could only hope my newfound confidence wouldn’t lead to more heartbreak. How much could one person survive? How much could I survive?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Audra
