“Your mother would tell you your hair needs a cut.”
“It’s a good job I’m thirty years old and she isn’t here, then.” Jackson glanced at his cell phone. He was tight for time between now and his next meeting. But, sadly, not quite tight enough to usher his dad out.
“What’s happening with your grandmother’s house?”
He wondered why his father rarely referred to Esther as his own mother. “It’s coming along,” he said noncommittally.
“Get your guy out there to take it on.” His dad nodded toward Oliver in the front office. “He can deal with the sale to save you wasting time going back and forth. One open house and it’ll be off your hands.”
“The guy’s name is Oliver—he’s been my PA for two years now, Dad. And I don’t need him to deal with it. I’ve instructed a realtor, the work is ongoing, and the house will be listed soon. It won’t reach the price we need if I put it on the market immediately.” Jackson kept his voice even. “You know I have to keep going back and forth for now, because of Esther’s will.”
His father shrugged him off. “That was only a request.”
“No, it’s legally binding, and it was what she wanted.”
Instead of answering, Alistair Hale undid the button on his suit jacket and sat down. His short, graying hair was immaculate, trimmed by the barber he’d been to for the last fifteen years. There was a wrinkle to the bridge of his nose, as if he was constantly bothered by a dead haddock in his breast pocket rather than his own disappointing son. Today, it was particularly pronounced. “We’ve got a bit of a problem.”
Jackson leaned back in his chair. “Go on.”
“Landon Peake has had to change the interest rate on our loan.”
“What do you mean he’s ‘had to’?”
His father waved a careless hand but his back was rigid. “One of his upcoming investments requires a bigger cash influx than he expected. He was apologetic, but he needs to recoup the money from us sooner rather than later.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. “How soon? And what are the new terms?”
“I initially agreed to pay $70,000 per month over twenty months. Landon’s asked that we double it.”
“$140,000 per month over ten months?”
His dad gave a slow blink; his nostrils flared. “Over fifteen months.”
Fucking hell!
“Is he mad? That would be a repayment of $2.1 million on a $1.4 million loan. It’s extortion.”
“If we can settle up sooner, it won’t be that much.”
“And if we go to the police, we’ll sort it even quicker. He can’t charge that kind of interest—it’s not even legal.” Jackson swallowed, his throat as dry as summer dirt. The low hum of the heating system grew louder in his ears.
His dad was shaking his head, brow furrowed. “We’re not going to the police.”
“We’re not paying thirty-three percent interest to a fucking shyster!”
“It won’t come to that. I’ve already told you. But Landon Peake knows everyone I know. He’s got standing at the club. Although I trust his discretion, I’m not prepared to risk word getting out that Hale Evolution isn’t good for its debts.”
“This is madness.” Unable to sit still any longer, Jackson rose from his desk and turned to the window. Down on the street, a young woman jogged the length of the sidewalk with a three-wheeled buggy, ponytail swishing from side to side. He envied her. Running was exactly what he wanted to do right now. Far, far away. “How long do we have before the new interest rates kick in?”
“Landon wants the higher payment next month. He’s let us have this month at the old rate.”
“Kind of him.” Jackson kept his voice as steady as he could. He turned to face his dad. “What happens if we can’t pay?”
His father raised an eyebrow. “Landon Peake is a businessman, not a monster. I told him about your grandmother’s house and he was very understanding. He doesn’t want to cause us a problem.”
All of which was fine, but it didn’t answer his question. “Would it help if I spoke to him?”
“There’s no need.” His dad dismissed the suggestion. “Better that he deals with the organ grinder than the monkey.”
