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“Yup. He’s not getting rent from the apartments. His gambling revenues are down. He’s got money problems, but more urgently, he’s got cash flow problems. He borrowed heavily to invest in that splashy waterfront retail development, and the loans are due.” Carter looks grimly pleased. “He needs money fast. So, he’s applied for a bridge loan.”
“He’s overextended. What bank is going to give him more money?”
“Atlantic Southern,” he replies. “They don’t know it’s him applying for the loan, of course. Mitchell’s created a dizzying number of shell corporations to hide his involvement.”
I finish the last of my coffee, excitement prickling through me. “Tell me you have proof it’s him.”
“I do,” he confirms.
Yes! I finally have Mitchell where I want him.
“You’re going to call Fred?”
Fred Jefferson, the president of Atlantic Southern, is a good friend. One phone call is all it’ll take. Mitchell threatened my employees. He walked into my office and told me it’d be a shame if someone got hurt. Fuck him. I’m going to hit him where it hurts.
“Absolutely.” I look at Carter. “Thank you for getting this.”
“No worries,” he says easily. “About Gabriella…”
I take a deep breath. “I like her,” I reply. “I like her a lot. I want to keep seeing her. You’re my best friend. I don’t want things to get awkward.”
“Are you asking me to butt out?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“Noah’s custody case,” I say reluctantly. “If you’re in an unorthodox relationship, Ed can use that as ammunition.”
“Fuck. I didn’t think of that.” He’s silent for a very long time. Finally, he nods decisively. “I meant what I said last night. I shouldn’t have asked Gabriella to get involved. I’m going to call the mediator you recommended today.” He hesitates. “Ed might not want to negotiate.”
No, he might not. There’s been a lot of bad blood on both sides. Then again, Ed’s made sure Noah calls every day, and he doesn’t appear to be bad-mouthing Carter to his son. He might be doing that to avoid getting on Judge Bass’ wrong side. Or, he might genuinely want what’s best for Noah.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“You’re right.”
I walk into the kitchen and pour myself another cup of coffee. Carter’s been so inflexible about Ed, so stuck in his narrative that Ed’s a bad parent that I figured he’d make more of a fuss. But that went easier than I anticipated.
Now, to see if Gabby’s interested in more than a temporary affair.
She has to be, right? She felt the connection between us as well—I know she did. But will it be enough to overcome everything else? Or will she choose the more uncomplicated option, will she choose to keep this thing between us purely physical?
“Hey.” As if my thoughts can summon her, Gabriella walks through the doorway, wearing my t-shirt. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your shirt.”
“It looks far better on you than it ever did on me,” I respond with a smile. “Do you want breakfast? I can call down for it. And coffee?”
“Tea please, not coffee,” she replies. “My mom likes to claim that my preference for tea is the only thing I got from her.” She runs her fingers through her hair, teasing the tangles out. “I can’t stay for breakfast. I really should get to work.”
Her gaze slides away from me. My stomach flip-flops. It’s Saturday. She worked late last night. Her job doesn’t seem to be a standard nine-to-five, but still. “Is something wrong?”
“I just haven’t—” She waves her hand at the two of us. “It’s just—” She exhales in a long breath. “This is different.”
“Good different?”
“I don’t know. It’s not important.”
It’s not important? I bite back my reflexive protest and retreat into the kitchen. I fill the kettle with water and turn it on, and then retrieve my collection of teas from a cabinet. Every Christmas, my mother gives me a box of assorted tea bags, even though I hardly ever drink the beverage. I’m convinced it’s because she likes the packaging.
