Chapter 5 - The Crack in the Empire
Spring rolled around, bringing with it the green explosion of the Carolinas and a new phase in my commercial real estate firm. I had just been promoted to senior partner, a milestone I celebrated by taking Val out to a ridiculously expensive French restaurant downtown.
We were halfway through our duck confit when my phone buzzed on the white tablecloth.
I didn't even check the ID; I assumed it was a client. But when I glanced down, the name made my fork pause halfway to my mouth.
*Marcus.*
It was the first time he had reached out directly since the wedding night.
*Text:*
*Dan. You need to know what's happening. Dad’s firm is in trouble. Big trouble. He took on a massive commercial litigation case last year, fronted all the capital, and the client just settled out of court for pennies. He’s liquidating assets. Kyle’s trying to distance himself, but he’s tied into Dad’s real estate holdings. Mom’s losing her mind. She thinks you're still doing commercial real estate up in Charlotte and keeps asking if you can 'bail them out' through your firm.*
I stared at the glowing letters. The irony was so thick you could have sliced it with a butter knife. Greg Whitmore, the titan of Richmond law, the man who believed some people were born to be audience members, was currently sitting in the cheap seats of his own financial ruin.
"Everything okay?" Val asked, setting her napkin down. She saw the look on my face and her expression tightened. "Is it them?"
I pushed the phone across the table so she could read it.
She read it once, twice, then looked up at me, her eyes steady and unreadable. "What are you going to do?"
"Do?" I picked up my fork again, cutting a precise piece of duck. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"You don't want to call Marcus back?"
"Marcus is an adult. He chose his side, even if he walks the fence sometimes. But my parents? Their empire was built on telling everyone else they didn't matter. If the foundation is crumbling, that’s physics, Val. Not my problem."
She reached across the table, covering my hand with hers. "Good. Because if you wanted to rescue them, I would have had to question your sanity."
"My sanity is entirely intact," I smiled, lifting my glass of Bordeaux. "To staying out of the courtroom."
May you like
"To staying out of the courtroom," she echoed, clinking her glass against mine.
* * *
