Regrets Of What Was Lost Chapter 06
When I finally came to my senses, I called her back.
“Do you hear yourself? That’s the market right now. The highest comp isn’t even nine hundred thousand. What makes you think this house can sell for a million?”
“Is that so?”
She gave a soft little laugh.
“You want me to take a financial hit so you and your mistress can start over? In your dreams, Tucker.”
“And besides, one million isn’t that much for a company vice president, is it? Just put it in a friend’s name and problem solved, right?”
I was silent for a long time, then let out a heavy breath.
“Fine. Even at one million, after the six-hundred-thousand mortgage, there’s only four hundred thousand left. Split in half, that’s two hundred thousand each.”
“I’ll find a way to get you the two hundred thousand directly. Will that work?”
“Of course not.”
“I’ll say it again. My main reason for selling isn’t about the money. It’s about eliminating any future credit risk for me and my daughter. The bank won’t care about our divorce decree. As long as my name is on that loan, I’m liable. So the house has to be sold.”
She hung up again.
Everything else I’d planned to say died in my throat.
There were only two weeks until the divorce was finalized.
Could this house possibly sell in time?
If we missed the court’s deadline, we’d have to renegotiate the agreement.
And the condo had already been transferred into Chloe’s name. It was no longer marital property.
Fuck.
I never expected her to be this calculating.
I called the agent and told him to pull the listing.
The open market was never going to move fast enough.
I had to find a friend to take the house off my hands so the divorce could go through.
But I went down my contact list, making call after call, and every friend gave me the same answer.
Some said their credit wasn’t good enough. Others said their income verification wouldn’t pass muster.
In short, no one was willing to help.
I had no choice.
Three nights later, I knocked on the door of her mother’s house.
“Zinnia, let’s talk.”
She didn’t let me inside.
Instead, she led me to the Starbucks on the corner.
After we sat down, I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhausted.
“Zinnia, the divorce is final in ten days. This house is not going to sell for a million.”
I slid a new agreement toward her.
“I’ll list it for eight hundred thousand. I’ll give you a promissory note for the difference. If you agree, sign it.”
She looked at the paper but didn’t touch it.
“Tucker, are you forgetting someone?”
I paused.
“Who?”
“That very pretty girl. Wouldn’t it be simplest to just sell the house to her?”
I frowned.
“She… she doesn’t have that kind of money.”
“How could she not?”
She pulled a business card from her bag and handed it to me.
“Staff accountant to finance manager in three years. You’ve been a big help to your little VP-in-training, haven’t you?”
A chill tightened in my chest, and my eyes narrowed.
“You investigated me?”
Her expression was placid.
“We’ve been married for years. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t being taken for a ride.”
“But honestly, she has everything going for her. Good credentials, beautiful, a rising star at work. Anyone would pick her.”
“So with her income and résumé, she should have no trouble getting approved for a few hundred thousand.”
Instinctively, I found myself defending Savannah.
“She’s still young. She might not even have enough for a down payment.”
“You can help her.”
She stirred her latte with a small spoon and looked up at me.
“For you, that kind of money is just a phone call away, isn’t it?”
I closed my eyes, my brow furrowing even deeper.
Three hundred thousand wasn’t hard for me to come by.
I’d already found ways to move more than that to Savannah.
But Savannah was a neat freak.
Could she really stand living in a house Zinnia had occupied for three years?
I drained my coffee, got up, and walked out.