Cade nodded. “So basically, you need to make sure Isaac doesn’t stay ticked at you until the inspection passes. Which will be hard with you and Elisa working together.”
“Right. So it seemed wise to come here, evaluate my options.”
“You might not have many of those if it’s money you’re after.” Owen strode inside his cubicle, his striped tie hanging crooked as he maneuvered between them to his chair. He grinned as he plunked his lunchbox on his desk. “Good to see you boys. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“We needed a quiet place to wait.” Cade shot Noah a look—one Noah returned with a soliddon’t say a wordexpression.
“Happy to help.” Owen wiggled the mouse to wake up his computer. “Let’s see what we can do. Cade, do you need money, too?”
Cade snorted, then shot Noah an apologetic glance. “I mean, no. I’m good.” He stood and clapped Noah on the shoulder. “I’ll let you two talk shop. Keep me posted.”
Owen waved as Cade cat-walk strolled out of the cubicle. Then he typed in his computer password. “So what are we looking at?” He leaned back and pulled an old-fashioned calculator from his center drawer. “I’m assuming this is about the inn and the mold.”
Noah named the total figure the mitigation company had given him. “I don’t know if this inheritance is going to pay out that much—if we can finish the treasure hunt and get it in the first place.” No sense in reviewing the extra complication he and Elisa had thrown into the mix last night.
Or the fact that they had yet to speak since then.
Not that it bothered him. They were adults now, not hormonal teenagers. They’d simply gotten caught up in the moment and post-victory endorphins. It was better for Noah to back out now, get some distance back between them, and forget this silly hunt.
He’d handle his finances in the more traditional fashion—by going into crazy amounts of debt.
Owen made a humming sound in the back of his throat as he clicked through records on his screen. “I’ve got your current construction loan pulled up, the one you took out through the business to make the renovations. The payment history is solid, which the powers-that-be will like. But you’re talking about needing a bridge loan, and unfortunately that cap is hit. I’d ask for a favor except there’s also the existing mortgage you’re still making payments on…” He offered a sympathetic wince. “They’d laugh at me, honestly.”
So it was worse than he’d imagined. Noah sighed. Gilbert had enough tucked back in the business account to pay the mortgage through the next several months, but without the coming tourist season, they’d be bankrupt in no time. Everything depended on the inn opening again, ASAP.
Which meant the mold had to be dealt with one way or another.
Owen pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I could run numbers on you personally, but you realize that changes the obligation on your part. You’ll be blurring the lines between your business and your own finances.”
Noah had feared it might come to that. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t quit on the inn. Or on his grandfather. He could take the loan out himself, and pay himself back through the summer profits. Of course the treasure hunt could solve all of this, but was the cost of working with Elisa worth the risks? Worth aggravating Isaac into more revenge?
Worth stirring up things best left unstirred?
“Go ahead and see.” Noah shifted in his chair. “My credit is good.”
“Which will help. But remember, everyone is stretched thin right now with the hurricane.” Owen frowned as he began furiously putting in numbers. “If you had a co-signer, like your grandfather did for that second mortgage years ago, it’d be no problem. Do you have co-signing options that you know of?”
“No. It’s just me,” Noah answered quickly—probably too quickly, but Owen didn’t seem to notice as he punched a few more keys.
“Your current income-to-debt ratio isn’t bad. That’s good.” He kept typing, then switched back to his calculator.
“Are we a go, then?” Noah returned the business card to Owen’s desk, trying not to panic over the deposit due next week when the mitigation crew showed up.
“Not yet.” Owen offered a tentative smile. “Luckily, you have an in with one of the top producing officers this year.” He squared his shoulders.
“Congrats.” Noah’s phone buzzed in his pocket, reminding him his workday wasn’t going to wait around forever. He stood. “I’d sure appreciate any leverage you could pull for me.”
He tried to hide his smile as Owen scrambled to stand too, his rolling chair knocking into his knees and nearly sending him back down. “Of course.” Owen smoothed his tie as he regained his balance. “Let me see what I can do. I should have an answer for you in a few days.”
“Thanks, man.” Noah said goodbye, then made his way back through the lobby, his phone buzzing with another incoming text. His heart shouted a hope his mind chastised. He had no business wanting Elisa to text him. No business hoping she’d clarify why she hadn’t stood up for him last night.
It shouldn’t matter. He just needed to get back to the inn and change out of this stiff shirt, make a dent on his list, prepare for the mitigation crew next week…anything to distract him from this page in history attempting to repeat itself in real time.
But to make sure it wasn’t her…
He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the display. Then he stopped short in the middle of the bank.
Delia had texted him.
