Page 63 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“Am fucking not,” Oliver retorts.

“Calm down, you two,” Evan’s icy tone cools the room. “Fucking children.”

“If something changes between you two, you'll tell us, right?” Richard asks.

“Of course,” I say, taking the chance to change the subject. “But have you had any luck with getting the neighboring building?” I ask Richard. He’s a successful real estate developer.

“No, they still won’t sell for that price,” he replies.

I rub my forehead with my free hand, considering my options. “Offer more.”

“How much?”

“Whatever it takes to get it.”

I lean back into my chair, grateful that my dad will be handing over my trust fund in five months. Every penny will go toward getting that neighboring building.

Chapter 17

Jemima

I’m determined to finalizethe schedule and complete outstanding orders for Saturday. As I approach Molly’s desk, I can't help but notice the deep wrinkle between her eyebrows, and her head bent low. Even the sound of my heels clicking on the floor doesn’t make her look up.What is holding her attention?

I pause in front of her desk. “Molly.”

She raises her head. “Oh, hi.”

My eyes flick to the paper in her hands. “Are you okay?”

She holds out the paper toward me. “Here… This was on my desk this morning.”

I turn it over and read the simple message.

I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I quit. Danny.

I feel a sinking sensation inside my heart. My stomach. Maybe both…

Molly tries to lift the mood. “I think it’s a good thing. His sales have been down, and maybe this is an opportunity to bring in someone with better skills.”

But I don’t feel like it’s a good thing. This isn’t just anyone; it’s someone who was important to my dad. It feels like I let my father down. Was I too distracted by Harvey to notice Danny felt neglected or threatened?

But he knew Harvey wasn’t staying. I struggle to remember the conversations I had with Danny weeks ago. I can’t remember my exact words.

“You found the note just sitting on your desk?” I ask.

She points to her keyboard. “Just sitting here.”

“I’ll call him and see if he’s okay,” I say, walking to my desk and pulling my phone from my bag.

I ring him, but he doesn’t answer. I call three more times before I send a text.

Me:Please call me.

I’ve never managed people, especially friends, so I head to Harvey’s office for advice. But as I approach, I realize he hasn’t arrived yet. Feeling defeated, I return to my office to figure out how to handle this situation until I can afford to hire a HR person.

I don’t have any experience in this business, so I’m solely relying on instinct, research, and advice. Each decision feels like a gamble, and I’m starting to second-guess myself. I pour over articles, watching tutorials, and even call a few local planners who are willing to talk to me.

Finding no helpful answers, I pull up my list and begin organizing the food choices for the gallery. My focus is entirelyon the tasks at hand, the rhythm of following my list and ticking each task off is helping me organize my thoughts.

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