My Fake Death Was The Punchline To His Cruel Joke Chapter 35
“I’ve adjusted the material specs. The total cost is still within your cap.”
They asked a few more technical questions, then closed the file.
“Ms. Ortiz, we didn’t invite you here because of that sensational court case.”
“I know.”
“We invited you because we read the post-occupancy reviews from your four projects in Denver.”
I smiled.
“That’s why I came.”
By the time I left the community center, it was dark.
Leo was walking with me to the parking lot when he suddenly stopped.
Across the street, a ‘For Lease’ sign was taped to the inside of a large, floor-to-ceiling window.
I recognized it instantly.
It was the street-front space from Bennett’s business plan.
“Want to take a look?” Leo asked.
I hesitated for a beat, then pushed open the dusty glass door.
The space was a wreck. The walls were scuffed, the floors needed to be completely redone.
But the light from the south-facing windows was still perfect.
Three years ago, Bennett had promised to give me this place.
I had almost cried with gratitude, believing that my dreams needed his permission, that my future was something he had to grant me.
Now, standing in the same evening light, I found myself checking the fire exits, tapping the load-bearing walls, and mentally calculating the rent.
“Are you serious?” Leo asked.
“The East Coast pro bono projects need a field office.”
“Is that the only reason?”
I turned to look at him.
“What other reason would there be?”
A month later, our renovation plan was approved.
I signed a long-term lease on the space.
No co-founder. No Shaw family money. No imaginary shares being transferred to Camille.
On the signature line, there was only one name.
Mara Elena Ortiz.
On the first day of construction, I tore the faded ‘For Lease’ sign from the window myself.
Outside, the evening traffic from the Newport Yacht Club flowed past.
This time, no one could ever throw me out the staff entrance.
Because the work happening behind that door, and the road that lay ahead, were mine and mine alone.