The Restoration of Celia Fairchild - Marie Bostwick Page 0,38

I started to say something but was so caught by surprise that it just came out as a garbled squeak, like someone was strangling a chipmunk.

“Sorry!” Anne said. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be so nosy. Just promise me that you’ll let me know when it comes out. And if you’d be willing to sign a copy, my mom would be over the moon. She’s so impressed that I know you. She’s told everybody in her mah-jongg group about it. I don’t suppose you’d consider signing books for the whole group, would you?” She laughed and apologized again. “Forget it. It’s too much to ask. And you already said you didn’t want to talk about it. But when the time comes, a signed book for Mom would be amazing.”

“Anne,” I said honestly, “if I ever have a book published, I’d be thrilled to sign a copy for your mom.”

Except for the part about the nonexistent book deal, I thought the conversation with Anne went really well. My exchange with Dan McKee went about like I thought it would. In short, he was a serious jerk.

According to Dan, it was a one-time offer, extended from the kindness of his heart and a sense of loyalty to me, which had been rescinded when I walked out the door, blah, blah, blah. Then he hung up on me.

I was kicking myself. Why hadn’t I taken the money when I had the chance? I should have taken the bracelet too. Stupid on both counts. Now he was mad and I stood basically zero chance of convincing him to give me that money.

I took Trey Holcomb’s business card from my wallet and dialed the number.

“Remember the part where you said you’d help me fight? Well, put on your boxing gloves.”

“Okay,” he said, after I finished explaining my plans and how Dan McKee had brought them to a grinding, and possibly permanent, halt. “I’ll take care of it.”

“How?”

He sounded so confident. Too confident.

“I’ll call him up and have a conversation. That’s what lawyers do.”

A conversation? As in, a reasonable and measured discourse between adults. That was his plan? He obviously didn’t know Dan McKee. Dan didn’t converse. He hunted and killed and crushed his opponents without mercy.

“Celia, I’ve got this,” he said. “You start working on finding a contractor and I’ll take care of McKee. I’ll call you in a couple of hours.”

“A couple of hours? But how are you going to—”

“Good-bye, Celia.”

Twice in one day, a man hung up on me. With Dan I expected it. But Trey was from Charleston which meant he was supposed to be a gentleman. I put down my phone and buried my head in my hands. Trey was going to call Dan and be all calm and Atticus Finch on him. That would never, ever work. Not in a million years. I might as well pack my bags and catch the next flight back to New York. Instead, I did an online search for “Best Charleston remodeling contractors” and started making calls. It didn’t go well.

When the housing market is hot, builders are in demand. Most were backed up for the rest of the year and wouldn’t even talk to me. The few who were willing to consider taking on the job said it would be between two and three months before they could even give me a bid. I spent four hours on the phone and made over thirty calls. No one was willing to take on the job of remodeling the house within my very abbreviated time frame.

It really was hopeless.

Then Trey called.

“Okay,” he said, “everything is set with McKee. All you have to do is sign the separation letter. The money will be deposited into your account tomorrow.”

My jaw dropped. Either he was kidding me or Trey Holcomb was a way tougher customer than I’d taken him for.

“Are you serious? How’d you get Dan to cave? He wouldn’t budge an inch when I talked to him.”

“Easy,” Trey said, “I just played Bad Cop to your Good Cop, made him think that you were going to sign the letter against my advice and hinted that I would have preferred a long, drawn-out court battle, and that I had recommended you sue him personally.”

“That’s all? And he bought it?”

“Well . . .” He drew out the word, then paused and sniffed before going on. “It’s just possible he thought I was a senior partner in a firm that is much larger and more powerful than is actually the case.”