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“Please, have a seat.” He held out his hand, gesturing to one of the chairs, then walked around his desk and sat, typing something into his computer. “So you’re here for a loan. Can I ask what it’s for?”
My pulse quickened at remembering the night that started it all, but none of that mattered. It wasn’t about the why—only the outcome.
“I was involved in a car accident last month and am unable to return to work for a few more weeks. I need to purchase a car, and just need a little help putting things back together.”
He glanced up from the monitor. “I’m sorry to hear that. Well, we can definitely see what we can do to help. It says here you own your home.”
“Yes, I inherited it from my grandparents.”
“Do you have any other collateral?”
“No, just the house.” I swallowed, sweat beading over the back of my neck. Could I really do this—risk losing the home my grandfather had built with his own two hands?
“That should be more than enough,” he said, offering a warm smile. “We’ll need some information, and I—”He looked past me, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry, would you excuse me a moment?”
“Of course, take your time,” I said, wiping my hand over my forehead subtly. The room was getting hotter, my breathing harsher as my throat began to close up.
It felt wrong being there, sitting there. If only my grandparents could see me now. They’d understand I had no choice, right?
Fidgeting in the chair, struggling to get comfortable, I heard Mr. Jefferson reenter the room.
Okay, I just need to stay focused and get this over with. They left me the house to look after me. I need to calm down.
Pulling my smile back into place, I looked back, my lips melting into a confused frown when I saw it wasn’t Mr. Jefferson. The man standing behind me wore a dark scowl, with anger radiating off of serious, tense shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, standing up, stunned to see Logan.
“I told you I had meetings today, one of which was here at the bank.” His voice was hard, with a menacing edge I didn’t recognize. “Now, let me make this very clear, Cassandra: you are not getting a loan.”
“What? How did you…”
I backed up as he stepped closer, the backs of my legs smacking against the chair I’d been sitting in.
“And you sure as hell are not putting your house up for collateral.” The darkness in his eyes brought a tremble to my knees.
Why was he so pissed? It wasn’t his business. My chin jutted out, ready to take on the beautiful man staring me down.
“Mr. Jefferson told you? That is completely unprofessional. I should report him—”
“Mr. Jefferson knows his place, and you, sweetheart, need to see that you have a man willing to help you in every way possible. If you need money, tell me—don’t run off to the bank behind my back.”
“Screw you, Logan! You don’t get to tell me what to do! You’re not my boyfriend, so back off!”
It felt wrong yelling at him after our memorable exchange earlier, but he was out of line getting involved in my personal affairs.
Frown lines etched over his forehead as he did just that—he backed off, running his hands through his hair, a soft growl rumbling in his throat.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked a moment later. His voice was barely above a whisper, eyes soft and rueful. “It’s my fault you’re here. Let me take care of this for you.”
My anger melted at his kindness, and my shoulders relaxed with a heavy sigh. “I need the loan, Logan. Don’t make this any more difficult for me than it already is, please. You think I want to be here? You don’t think I feel horrible using my grandparents’ home?” I sucked in a sniffle and urged the tears beckoning to stay at bay. “I need to buy a car and pay to keep my house heated. I’m down to my last twenty dollars. I barely had the gas to drive here.”
“You don’t need a fucking bank for that!”
“Yes, I do!” I yelled back.
He stood there in silence, his jaw clicking. “Twenty dollars? Tell me you did not just say twenty dollars!” he all but roared. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me sooner? Huh?”
He stared at me, waiting for me to respond, but his strong voice had silenced me. He walked over to the office door and slammed it shut, giving us privacy, but through the glass window, I could see most of the people in the bank were staring. With a flick of his wrist, he yanked the blinds down, ending the free show for the gawkers.
I watched his back rise and fall with each deep breath before he turned back to face me. In an eerily calm voice, he asked, “How much did you spend on that new outfit for last night? The fancy lingerie? The lovely wax job that only ended the evening early?” Slowly, he walked back toward me.
“What about your hair and makeup—did you pay for that, as well? Spend money to impress a man you already have enchanted? You didn’t need that shit, Cassandra. You’re gorgeous without it, and I’d have preferred you in something you already owned. Or, if you were truly looking to seduce me, you could have opened the door nude rather than draining the remainder of your bank account.”
He stopped directly in front of me, staring down into my eyes that were filled with humiliation at how irresponsibly I’d acted with the last of my money.
“Answer me. Is that why you’re down to twenty dollars?” he hissed.
Embarrassment consumed me. My head fell forward and I was unable to even look at him any longer, but from the corner of my eyes that were cast on his expensive black shoes, I caught him moving his hand to his suit jacket. I glanced up to see him pull his wallet from the inside pocket and grab a handful of cash.
“I don’t want your money. Don’t you understand?” I told him in a weak, defeated breath.
“You think I don’t know that?” With a frustrated groan, he grabbed my hand, stuffing the cash into it, pleading with me. “Please, Cassandra, see my side of this.”
“You need to see mine. I need the money from the bank, and borrowing it from you is… complicated. And we have enough complications.”
I set the money on Mr. Jefferson’s desk when Logan refused to take it back.
“That we do. If you won’t take the cash, fine.”
A triumphant smile began to crack over my tight lips until he shoved the cash back into his wallet and added, “But I’m not allowing you to risk a loan. Go home. The money you need will be deposited into your account by the time you get there.”
“No!” I wanted to stomp my foot. This was going nowhere. I stormed past him and threw open the door. “Mr. Jefferson!” I called for the man staring dumbly at the grey carpet, waiting outside his own office.
He didn’t make a move or even respond, but instead stared past me to Logan. I slammed the door shut again and turned back, glaring at the man in front of me who was working my last nerve. Why couldn’t he let me do this one thing?
“If you are determined to take out a loan, then we’ll compromise: let me cosign for you instead of using your house for collateral.”
Was he serious?
I huffed out a laugh. “Cosign? I’m not an unemployed teenager looking to buy her first car, Logan. I’m a grown woman.”
