The Land My Father Left Me and the House That Disappeared
One document caught my eye: a contract with a major national beverage brand, signed just three weeks ago.
The retainer was sixty-five thousand dollars a month, paid directly to his agency’s primary commercial account.
My phone rang in my hand, the vibration startling me.
The caller ID showed Richard’s name.
I took a deep breath, pressed answer, and held the phone to my ear.
“Richard,” I said.
“Alex,” his voice was smooth, carrying that familiar tone of patronizing pity. “I assume you’ve seen the account balance by now.”
“I saw it,” I said, keeping my voice level.
“I had to protect myself,” he said. “You’re being completely unreasonable about the house, and I have immediate expenses. Valerie and I are finalizing our arrangements.”
“You took our children’s college fund, Richard.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” he said. “The agency is doing well. I’ll replenish those funds later. Right now, I needed the liquidity.”
“You spent eighty-five thousand dollars on a yacht charter,” I said.
I could hear him sigh on the other end of the line.