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“Maybe. I don’t know. The Geller and Geller project—don’t you have a meeting with them this afternoon?”
It’s the latest land survey my father insisted I sign off on without question. “Yeah, let me see.”
She hands me the report, pointing out a highlighted section in the land survey. “Now, this may be nothing, but the two maps don’t match up. The original filed and the final one. Look here. . .” She rips two pages from the report and walks over to the window. “See?”
I follow and stare as she places the two sheets of paper, one over the other, onto the window. “I’m not sure what I’m looking at.”
“It’s super subtle. But here.” She points to a line hidden deep beneath other scribble and parcel dimensions. “Do you see it?”
“I do. . .” Fuck. The original property survey Bill Geller submitted is not the one the Hill Group filed. It’s covered in red markings and lines that weren’t there before. All indicators that would show up on a report if the land was deemed uninhabitable. “How did you catch that?”
“Chef. Attention to detail is my specialty.”
“I need to look into this.” I grab the papers and jump into my chair to make a call. “Lance, Theo Monroe. I need a second opinion on a land survey. I need this to be discreet and fast. I’ll pay whatever price to have it expedited. Great. Lunchtime is perfect. Thanks.”
“So, what does this mean?”
“I’m not sure, but I need you to continue scanning those documents.” I want to pull her into my arms and kiss the shit out of her. She may have single-handedly saved my future. Possibly ours. “I need to focus.”
She nods. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take these to my desk and give you privacy. If you need anything, just ring me.”
“Will do. And Fay?” She stops and looks over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
I get to work, tearing apart every detail of the Geller report. Reading the meeting notes, I learn Bill Geller came to my father three months ago in desperate need of help. His development company purchased a large amount of rural land to build commercial and housing projects. But once he was ready to break ground, the land survey came back stating the land was contaminated and a danger to any proposed building plan. The bigger problem was he put all his eggs in this very small basket in hopes that this development would take his company to a new level of revenue. Instead, it was about to bankrupt him.
And when I get off the phone with Lance, my anger spirals. He came to the same conclusion: the land should have never been deemed uninhabitable.
I read through Bill’s personal file. We always run background checks on all clients with the potential for a large payout. Bill Geller is a family man with a wife and three children, the youngest who’s battling a rare cancer. Before this deal, his company was growing at a rate that had the potential to make a lot of money. Now, he can barely pay our retainer, let alone hire MIC as his consultant.
The problem is, what do I do what this information? Doubt over the legitimacy of the Geller and Geller project and any other business deals made in conjunction with the Hill Group sets in. All those contracts my father demanded I sign off on.No need to review. Just sign it.Does this have anything to do with the upcoming merger? Or all the legal issues surrounding the sale?
It all starts to make sense. But until I figure out what to do, I need to make it right with Bill.
There’s a soft knock on my door.
“Mr. Monroe, Mr. Geller has arrived.”
I nod to Fay and stand, walking over to Bill. I reach out and shake his hand. “Bill, we have a lot of ground to cover. I suggest we order in. How does Thai sound?”
Bill smiles. “Theo. Sounds great.” He turns to Fay. “If you can order some of those yummy little wontons, you will forever be in my debt.”
“I think I can manage that.”
I direct Bill to sit at the table and get right to it. “Bill, we need to discuss the land survey.”
Bill’s shoulders slump. “I’m done. I know this. I’m just thankful you’re still willing to purchase the land.”
“The original survey that was issued to you concluded your land was contaminated, and any attempt to build risked the chances of said ground affecting whatever you develop.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve put everything I have into this project. It was supposed to change my family’s life. And now I don’t have any money left to—”
“The survey was wrong,” I cut him off.
His chin raises, and he stares back at me. “What? What do you mean? The results for the soil came back positive for contamination.”
“I’m telling you, the report was wrong. The land is fine. There was an error in the plat survey, where the water lines run through the land. I reviewed it and got a second opinion. Lucky for you, we were in the wrong.”
His mouth opens, but he’s struggling to speak. Bill’s shoulders tremble as his eyes fill with tears. “So. . . the land is. . .”
