Chapter 4 - WHAT ROSS HERITAGE WAS REALLY FACINGThe business wasn't merely tight.
It was twelve days from a serious deadline.
Ross Heritage had a $1.55 million bridge loan against the Highland Park venue.
The note had financed construction overruns after a bank refused to expand the original credit facility.
Interest was ugly.
The loan matured at the end of the month.
Another $310,000 was owed in state and federal tax obligations under negotiated payment schedules.
Vendor balances pushed total short-term pressure higher.
The business still owned valuable assets.
It was not insolvent in the dramatic sense.
But cash was insufficient.
If the bridge lender wasn't paid or refinanced, the venue could enter default.
Brenda viewed that property as Frank's legacy.
Chloe viewed it as her career.
Luke viewed fixing it as his responsibility.
Where did they expect to find $2.2 million?
Me.
Or more precisely:
My equity.
Priya showed me an email included in the broker file.
Luke to Nathan:
Spouse's Gold Coast unit has significant clean equity. Family is aligned on leveraging it temporarily while venue note is refinanced.
Family is aligned.
I was apparently family only when an asset was required.
Another email:
Hannah prefers minimal involvement due current medical issue with hand. I can coordinate documents.
My burned wrist.
Used as an explanation for my absence.
I felt physically sick.
“Could he have thought I would agree?”
Priya asked.
“Would you?”
“No.”
“Had you previously discussed using the condo?”
“Never.”
“Then whether he hoped you'd agree later doesn't authorize him now.”
I knew.
Emotionally I kept looking for a version that wasn't as bad.
Luke had not taken the $2.2 million.
Nothing funded.
Maybe he was preparing options.
Maybe the forged signature came from somebody else.
Maybe he would have stopped everything before closing.
All possible.
None explained the signature.
Then Luke called.
This time I answered.
“We need to meet.”
“Yes.”
He sounded relieved.
“Tomorrow?”
“Bring your attorney.”
Silence.
“Hannah.”
“Bring your attorney.”
“What is this?”
“I have the Lakefront Meridian application.”
Nothing.
I heard him breathe.
Then:
“Where did you get that?”
The wrong question.
I nearly smiled.
“The bank sent it to the person whose condo you're trying to mortgage.”
“Hannah, listen.”
“Tomorrow. Priya Shah's office. Ten.”
“Priya Shah?”
“My lawyer.”
His voice changed.
“You hired a lawyer against me?”
“No.”
I looked at the forged signature.
“I hired one for me.”
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He didn't know what to do with that sentence.
Neither had I, until I said it.
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