Chapter Seventeen
1239 Words
Chapter Seventeen
Adalia cracked open an eyelid the next morning, but the room was plunged in darkness. The thick curtains in Trent’s room didn’t let in a single ray of light.
She rolled over and checked the alarm clock beside his bed. It was already 9am. She should be at work, but it was a Friday and no one would come in anyway. Adalia sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Trent lay beside her, snoring slightly, his ripped abs visible even underneath the sheet.
What a delicious treat. She’d had the most amazing night with him – living, feeling, breathing.
Riiiiiing.
Her phone sounded in the bedroom and she jumped up. She hurried over to her bag and whipped it out, then squinted at the screen. She didn’t recognize the number, and that was never good.
Adalia padded out of the room, glancing left and right in case Trent had a maid or the like. She hadn’t bothered throwing a shirt on, let alone slipping into her dress – that was still downstairs with his pants.
“Hello?” she answered and strolled to the balustrade, then leaned on it.
“Is this Ms. Adalia Montclair?”
“Yes, this is she.” She gripped the metal banister with one hand and steeled herself.
“Ms. Montclair, I’m calling from the bank with regards to your overdue loan repayments.” It was a woman this time, and she sounded as cold as the air in the hall.
“How can I help you?”
“Unfortunately, I’m calling to inform you that you’ve missed your deadline for repayment.”
What could she say to that?
“If you give me just another month I can come up with the money, I swear it.” Adalia gritted her teeth at the thought of asking Trent, but maybe that was the only way. She could pay him back with interest once she had the money.
She half-turned to walk back to the bedroom then halted.
“That won’t be possible, Ms. Montclair.”
“To whom am I speaking?”
“This is Mrs. Laurent. Regrettably –”
Adalia popped her hip and placed her fist on it. “Hold on just one moment, Mrs. Laurent, and hear me out, okay?”
“Ms. Montclair –”
“Please, hasn’t anyone ever given you a chance before? Just let me say what I have to say and after that you can do what you see fit. All right?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line as the woman mulled it over.
A door slammed somewhere in the mansion, and Adalia covered her breasts with one arm and snuck down the hall, searching for privacy.
“Very well,” the bank woman replied.
Adalia opened a door and peered into the room beyond. A bath and toilet stared back at her, so she flicked the light switch and went in then shut the door behind her.
“I’ve been through a tough time with the bakery, I spent all the money the bank loaned me on buying equipment, setting up the front end of the bakery and hiring help,” she said, ticking the points off on her fingers.
“All right, but what you did with the money is truly your prerogative and business.” Mrs. Laurent put in and Adalia coughed over her words.
“You need the full picture to understand what I’m about to say,” she answered, and the woman went silent. Maybe this one was less of a Kraken than the last old fart who’d called her.
“Ms. Montclair, it’s June 23rd, it’s far past your date for repayment and the bank has no choice but –”
“You haven’t let me finish,” Adalia said, forcing herself to speak slowly and clearly. If she snapped, she’d lose the audience immediately.
She glared at the potted plant in the corner, waggling its fronds under the extractor fan. She grimaced at the extra noise in the room, but didn’t turn off the light.
“Go ahead,” said the banker, but her tone spoke volumes as to how pointless Adalia’s endeavor was. She’d never listen, but she had to try and make her see sense.
“To bring in more money and more customers, I need to market the business, but I haven’t been able to do that, because, like I said, I used the loan to create it in the first place.”
“Unfortunately, Ms. Montclair, that expense is something you should have included in the business plan you presented to the bank when applying for your loan.”
“Oh, I know, and that was my mistake. I’m not accusing the bank of anything, I’m just explaining my situation here.”
The woman sighed. “Ms. Montclair, I understand that you need more money, but the bank can’t provide it to you given your current credit record.”
The light overhead was a dull yellow, but she didn’t bother turning the knob beneath the switch to brighten the room.
“I don’t need you to provide me with the money. I have an investor who could help me pay off the twenty-thousand dollars I owe now and help me set up the marketing aspect further. I just need a few days, not even a week, to organize it.” Adalia crossed her fingers, thumbs, toes and legs.
Surely the woman would see that she was serious?
“Ms. Montclair, I appreciate you explaining your situation to me and I empathize with you, but it is June 23rd and your loan repayment was due on the 15th.”
“I’m well aware of that, trust me, but if you could just...”
Mrs. Laurent cleared her throat this time and Adalia snapped her mouth shut.
“Because of your inability to fulfill your financial obligation to the bank, I am calling to inform you that your assets will be liquidated.”
Adalia’s heart sank into the pit of her stomach. She’d known it would happen eventually, but not now, not like this. There had to be something she could do! This was her dream, what she’d fantasized about doing as a little girl.
“Please, give me a chance to contact my investor and have them pay you the money within the next few days. Surely you can cut me a break here.” Adalia sat on the edge of the bath and gripped it hard. It was icy cold, but she didn’t flinch away.
Her mind was focused on the bakery, on making this uppity bank chick realize that this was it for her. This was her life.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Montclair.”
“No, you’re not,” she snapped, finally erupting under the pressure of Mrs. Laurent’s resolve to ignore her pleas. “You’re not sorry at all. You won’t even give me a few days to gather my affairs so I can make this right.”
“Ms. Montclair, you’ve been provided with ample opportunities to make your repayments and to organize a repayment scheme. You took neither of these opportunities, and unfortunately, the onus for this failure is not on the bank.” Her implication was clear.
Adalia was the failure in this. She had let it slip right out of her fingers by her inability to bring in enough money to repay these bastards.
Nausea battered against the lining of her stomach and she gripped at herself.
“Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? The bakery is all that I have, it’s my world. If you take that away I’ll have nothing left.”
“Good day, Ms. Montclair.” The line went dead. Adalia was greeted with the empty dial tone, which drove home the hard point that her business was gone.
Without it, she’d be unable to live in her apartment, to afford food, water, electricity... anything. She was officially at breaking point.
Her next move was crucial.
Adalia buried her pride deep and stood up, clutching the phone in her right hand. She’d have to ask Trent for help. There wasn’t any other option.
- Writer
