Bank. I’ll go to the bank and beg for some extra time and pay what I can of the amount owed.
I lift my coffee cup to my lips, take a large swallow and stand, tossing the container in the trash as I pass it.
“Excuse me, can you say that again?”
“Of course, Mr. Kelly. The past due balance has been paid in full, as well as the mortgage payment for the next six months.”
My jaw drops. What the fuck? “How?” The question comes out rushed.
“I was not here when the payment was made. But someone came in and handled it. From your reaction, I take it, it wasn’t you?”
“Fuck…I’m sorry. No, it wasn’t. How were they even able to access my account without the information?”
“They would’ve needed your account information, name and birthdate.” Mr. Donnely, the head of the bank, explains. “But this is a good thing. The account is caught up, and you are no longer in danger of losing your home.
“Yeah, umm, okay.” I stand, shake his hand and walk out of the bank confused.
Who would’ve paid my bill? Or even known about it? The information wasn’t public.
Scout offered to help, but he just left the coffee shop, so it couldn’t have been him.
The only other people who knew other than the attorney, and I know it wasn’t them, were Malcolm and Jefferson.
Could they have? Did they?
My phone buzzes in my pocket so I pull it out and check my email.
Subject: New Booking – URGENT RESPONSE NEEDED
I read through it, fuming as I do. It’s Jefferson requesting a date for tomorrow. Not yet. I’m not ready to see him yet, especially after finding out about the house. Did I plan to confront him? Yes, but not right now.
I’ve barely sent back the reply when another message comes through, but it’s for this afternoon at three and it’s from Malcolm. Once again, I decline the booking request. The first thing I need to do is figure out my messed up life. And I can’t see or talk to them until I do.
A small part of me is happy, though. My house is safe, but I can’t take their money. I’m going to have to talk to whichever one of them paid it off and pay them back.
Chapter 31
Malcolm
Hedeclinedthebooking.What’s going on? The short messages, almost standoffish, and now he’s ignoring me. Something isn’t right.
Me: Hey, I know we have dinner plans, but can we meet here first? There’s something I need to tell you.
He replies immediately.
Jefferson: I need to talk to you about something too. So spill our guts then go stuff them?
Me: LOL. Sounds like a plan.
Jefferson: I can come over now. I’m just signing paperwork and well, we still need to discuss plans.
Me: See you when you get here.
Needing to clean up before Jefferson gets here, I run and take a shower. My nerves are overloaded knowing that I’m about to bare my soul to Jefferson about Bradley. What we did. How he helped me. But mostly the feelings I have for him. How I’d like to continue to see him and develop that relationship as well as rekindle mine and his.
“You’re just going to be upfront.” I tell myself out loud, turning on the water as I strip out of my clothes, dropping them to the floor.
The water hits my back like a thousand tiny drumbeats. Steam coils around my face, fogging the glass, muting the world. But not muting my thoughts.
