Chapter Sixteen
JACK
I rubbed at my temples, staring at the paperwork before me. This was the third time my uncle was suing me.
“Just pay him ten million. I don’t want to go to court,” I told Chloe.
“Tenmillion!” She actually growled like an animal. “No way, Jack!” She began to pace my office. “Money makes people ugly. Your uncle is a lying, no-good, bast?—”
“He’s right though.” I tapped the piece of paper.
Chloe slammed her fist onto the stack of papers, and I met her gaze. I’d never seen her this angry.
“Jack Marrow, you listen to me. This man will not get one more dollar from you so long as I am working here. Do you understand me?” She tipped her chin as if daring me to test her.
I scoffed. “You’re going to quit if I give my uncle money?”
“No. If you want to help your uncle and buy him a house and send him to gambling-addiction therapy, I will respect that. But if you throw ten million at this man and give power to the ugly words in this”—she tapped the papers—“I will leave. Because what happened was an accident and I will not accept anyone making you feel any different.”
I loved her at that moment. Like a sister, I genuinely loved her. I decided right then and there to leave every dollar of my money to her in my will. She was a good apple, and I didn’t come across those often.
“Don’t leave me.” I placed my hand over hers. “But please, just pay him.”
She yanked her hand out from under mine. “No. You’re going to have to cut that check, Jack.”
Well, at least she wasn’t quitting.
“Okay. Thank you,” I said.
She began to walk out of my office.
“Hey,” I called after her. When she turned to look at me, she was wearing the pity look Cedric gave me every time I saw him. “Thanks for always sticking up for me.”
It meant more than she knew. I didn’t have many people in my corner, and sometimes it felt like that was the only thing keeping me going.
“Always,” she said with a sad smile and left.
Great. Now, even Chloe wouldn’t look at me the same.
Staring at the court paperwork for my uncle’s case, I shook my head. Chloe had a point. Just giving him the money wouldn’t help him. After picking up my phone, I dialed Uncle Rod.
“This is Rodney.” He already sounded drunk. It was only noon.
“Hey, Uncle Rod. It’s Jack, your nephew.”
“You got my papers?” he asked.
“I did. You know I’d like to settle this out of court like we did last time.” Last time, I’d given him a million bucks. That was a year ago. How had he blown through it so quickly?
“That would be prefur…prefreeb—I would like that.” He couldn’t even say the wordpreferable.
“Here’s the deal. I’ll send you to treatment for gambling and alcohol addiction, and if you stay sober for a year, I’ll give youten million dollars, payable in installments of half a million a year for twenty years.” I laid my offer on the table.
“I don’t need no treatment!” he snapped.
“Okay, then. I’ll see you in court, Uncle Rod. Bye.” I hung up and waited.
Not ten seconds later did my phone ring again.
