Just what I need.
I dial the number and ask to speak with someone who can help me get a renovation done in three months. This time, when I give my full name, I’m transferred directly to Julian Lopez, the head of the company, no questions asked.
“Mr. Kane.” The low rumble of Mr. Lopez’s voice fills my ear.
“Mr. Lopez.”
“Please call me Julian. So, I hear you need a renovation job done in three months.”
“Can you help me?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Depends on if you’re willing to do the same.”
Of course, there is a catch.“What do you want?”
“To have my company chosen for one Kane Company project.”
“Are you looking to expand your services to the hospitality industry?”
“Something like that.” His deep chuckle lacks any kind of warmth—just like his personality.
Brady’s lawyer said my brothers couldn’t get involved with the house sale, but he never mentioned anything about offering someone a job in the company in exchange for services.
Look at you finding legal loopholes.
I know my brothers will find Mr. Lopez something to do, however small. “If your team can remodel my house in three months, then—”
“Done. My assistant will be in contact with you to schedule a meeting with one of my best contractors.”
The line goes dead without him bothering to say goodbye. Mr. Lopez reminds me of Declan, with his sharp tone and no-bullshit attitude.
Another piece of my plan slides into place, slowly building my confidence. Declan might think I’m good at failing, but I plan on proving him and everyone else who doubted me wrong.
“Mommy! Look!” Cami runs into the kitchen, dropping envelopes of mail behind her like a breadcrumb trail.
“¡Cuidado!” I grab her before she runs straight into an open cabinet.
She holds her envelope high in the air. “I got mail!”
I recognize the logo instantly. It’s been a few months since Cami took the entrance exam for Wisteria Prep, an exclusive private school that only opened a few years ago to cater to the families moving here from Chicago. Cami begged me to apply since a few of her friends were transferring there, so I let her even though the principal warned me they only had two seats available for the incoming first-grade class.
My girl is the smartest kid I know, but those kinds of places are all about politics and who you know. Her chances of getting in were always slim.
Which is why you have to face the consequences of your actions.
She bounces up and down, waving the envelope in the air. “Can we open it now? Please?”
“Let me do it.” At least that way I can have a second to mentally prepare for how I’ll break the news to her.
My hands shake as I wipe them across my apron, prolonging the inevitable by cleaning the flour off my fingers.
“Mommy! Hurry up!” She waves the envelope in front of my face.
“All right. Let me have it.”
Cami slaps it into my waiting hand. I open the envelope with a butterknife before pulling out the thick piece of paper.
“What does it say?” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, making her sneakers light up.