Page 4 of Cruel Offer
“And as for you.” He points a finger at me as he stops a few feet away. “You’re going to have to rely on your looks to land yourself a husband, since you’re too undesirable to marry off now. Your mother and I certainly can’t afford to bankroll your lifestyle anymore.”
Mom slips away and I almost follow her, but his words have me riveted.
“Marry off?” I stutter. “You were going to marry meoff?”
He winces. “Not anymore. You were meant to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, set for life with all the money you’d ever want, but now…I can’t even get my retainer fee back thanks to the termination clause in the damn contract I signed. What a waste.”
This is one of those situations I wish I knew how to respond to. “I don’t understand.”
He’s not really paying attention to me anymore. “Fucking Quattuor Group,” he mutters to himself. “That money would have kept us in this house another few months, but no, I spent it on my undesirable daughter. That’s what you are now. They cancelled our agreement, Piper, because you’reundesirable. The minute the news about me got out, they rejected you!”
It sounds to me like they rejected him, and I was merely collateral. But I don’t say that out loud. I’m still reeling as I try to process this news.
He walks away, leaving me bolted to the floor. Looking back to see if I’m coming, he waves distractedly for me to follow. “Come on. Get your bags. We have to move into Susan and Doug’s Hamptons place like the fucking hired help!”
His shoes are loud as he descends the stairs. I still can’t move. Standing here, alone, in the empty, sterile hall, all I can think of are my father’s harsh words.
Quattuor Group. Auctioned off. Termination clause.
It’s all so unfathomable. This can’t be my life. How did I end up here?
And how the hell am I supposed to get myself out of it?
2
PIPER-LILY
I don’t wantNana to know that I’m here.
I asked the desk staff not to inform her until after my appointment with the center’s financial advisor, otherwise Nana will start asking questions that I don’t want to answer. She might be in her eighties, but she’s sharp as a tack, and not much gets past her.
Nancy Houghton sits across from me, tapping on her computer keyboard with perfectly manicured nails. I didn’t miss the curious look she gave me when I walked in. She knows what’s going on with my family, no doubt. Anyone who watches the news knows. Thank goodness Nana doesn’t have a television in her rooms, per her request.
But I wonder if other residents have mentioned it? Or if someone might have left a newspaper lying around? Normally, I visit her three to four times a week, but I haven’t come since the news of the indictment broke. I’m sure Nana will ask me what’s going on.
Nancy’s eyes dart in my direction. She studies me for a second, then stops typing and pulls her lips into a tightsmile. “Your family’s account is paid in full through Q1 of next year, Ms. Barclay.”
“Q1?” I repeat.
“Yes. Meaning the next payment of one-hundred-fifty thousand will be due the last week of March.”
One hundred and fifty thousand dollars. The number hangs over my head like a dark cloud, and I feel like I’m suffocating. That’s ten times what I make in a year at the dance studio. Not to mention, my bank account is down to barely a thousand dollars—it used to get replenished with a generous allowance each month by my parents, but it hasn’t been topped off since my father’s arrest, and probably never will be again. The only recent deposits have been from my part-time job at the studio, a few hundred each Friday. That’s nothing.
But I’ve got just over six months until the next payment is due. That gives me some wiggle room. I have time to figure this out.
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage to say at first. “That’s good news. Thank you.”
Nancy leans forward on her desk and folds her hands. Her smile falls into a concerned line.
“I’ve already spoken to your father, but let me reiterate that we have a very strict policy on timely payment. The wait list for residency here is quite lengthy?—”
“I’ll make sure it’s paid on time,” I cut her off, my cheeks burning hot.
Her eyes say she doesn’t believe me. “As the residency contract states, a resident must exit the community within ten days of non-payment. With your grandmother’s healthneeds, we really want to avoid such a sudden relocation. Let’s circle back in the new year and reassess.”
Her tone implies that we should already be making plans for relocation, because she doesn’t believe another payment is coming. I try to stay positive, reminding myself that there’s still time, but deep down, I know it's not enough. My father's indictment meant everything we own is going up for auction to begin paying debts. Our future access to any remaining money is uncertain.
Rising from my seat, I extend my hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Houghton.”
