“He found the article on a flight back from Chicago,” Chloe said, her voice rushing so fast she had to stop for a breath after every few words. “It was in the regional business quarterly, the one with your face on the cover under the headline about the Midland Trust acquisition. He kept pointing at the logo of Aegis Ledger and shouting at Mother that you had finally done something useful with your life.”
I sat behind my desk and picked up the silver paperweight, letting its heavy, cold metal roll across my palm. “He called eighty-eight times before nine this morning.”
“Because he thinks you can fix it,” she said, leaning forward so quickly she spilled a few drops of water onto her gray skirt. “He kept saying the shipping terminal has a small cash squeeze, just a dry spell with the autumn contracts, and that your company has the keys to the vault now.”
“My company does not lend money to failing freight lines,” I said.
But you are buying the bank, Emma,” she said, her ring spinning around her finger again. “He saw the regulatory notice in the Columbus dispatch. He said if Aegis Ledger takes over the commercial lending division of Midland Trust, you can sign off on his line of credit before the quarterly review on Friday. He said you have the power to do it with a single keystroke.”
“He thinks I have that kind of authority because he does not understand how modern compliance works,” I said.
“He is desperate, Emma,” she whispered, her eyes wide. “He told Mother that if the line of credit is not cleared by Friday afternoon, the fuel suppliers will cut us off. The terminal is already running on a three-day reserve.”
I looked at the water soaking into her gray skirt, forming a dark, expanding circle. She did not seem to notice the cold fabric against her skin.
“He should have thought about the fuel reserve before he spent the summer pretending the terminal was profitable,” I said.
“It is profitable,” she said, her voice dropping. “It is just a temporary cash flow issue. He told me so himself.”
