Chapter 8 - Nolan’s Last Stand
By Wednesday morning, the walls were closing in on Nolan.
Marcus had filed an emergency injunction freezing all marital assets, freezing Nolan’s personal accounts, and placing a temporary lien on his beloved custom Ford F-250 truck.
I was at my office downtown, working through client damage control. After releasing a factual statement accompanied by the steakhouse video to our enterprise clients, the hospital network had immediately reinstated my contract and issued an apology for their hasty suspension. The truth was an unstoppable disinfectant.
At noon, my office door swung open without a knock.
Nolan stood there. He looked terrible. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and the arrogance that usually defined his swagger was completely broken.
He closed the door behind him and locked it.
"Tess, please," he said, his voice cracking. "We need to talk. Just five minutes."
"Unlock that door, Nolan," I said, keeping my hands visible on my mahogany desk. "My assistant has instructions to call building security if you entered this floor."
Nolan didn't unlock the door, but he sank into the client armchair across from me, burying his face in his hands.
"I’m drowning, Tess," he choked out. "The bank called me. They’re launching an internal fraud investigation regarding the mountain cabin loan. The loan officer who approved the forged signature was Vivian’s cousin. The bank is firing him, and they’re threatening to send the file to the federal prosecutor."
"Then you should probably hire a very good criminal defense attorney," I replied coolly.
"I don't have money for an attorney!" he cried, looking up with wet, desperate eyes. "You froze the accounts! I had to sleep on Brooke’s living room floor last night! Her landlord gave her an eviction notice because the boutique rent bounced! Mom’s blood pressure is through the roof! Tess, we are your family! How can you be so cruel?"
"Cruel?" I stood up, leaning over the desk so he could see the utter lack of pity in my eyes. "You watched your mother strike mine across the face, and you defended her. You stole hundreds of thousands of dollars from the woman who worked seventy hours a week to build this life, and you gave it to two women who treated me like their personal maid. You forged my name on a loan that risked my grandmother’s cottage."
"I was going to pay it back!"
"With what, Nolan? You make sixty thousand a year and spend eighty! You were never going to pay it back. You were going to bleed me dry until I had nothing left, and then you would have blamed me for the bankruptcy."
Nolan fell to his knees on the carpet beside my desk, reaching for my hand. "Tess, baby, please. I made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. I was under so much pressure from Mom. She’s manipulative, you know how she is! She guilt-tripped me every single week! I did it to keep the peace!"
"No, Nolan," I said, pulling my hand away with absolute disgust. "You didn't do it to keep the peace. You did it because you are a coward."
His face suddenly hardened. The pathetic tears vanished, replaced by an ugly, bared-teeth fury. He stood up, towering over me.
"If I go down, you go down with me, Tess!" he hissed. "You signed joint tax returns! You think the IRS won't look at the creative deductions we took for your business? I’ll tell them you knew about every single dime! I’ll drag your precious company through the mud until you’re bankrupt and disgraced!"
I picked up my desk phone, pressed speaker, and dialed extension 101.
"Sarah," I said calmly. "Send security up. Mr. Miller is threatening me."
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Nolan stared at me, his chest heaving. "You're a monster," he spat.
"No," I replied as heavy footsteps echoed outside the hallway. "I’m just the woman who finally stopped paying your bills."
