I drag my sorry ass into my apartment after midnight, and I’m just sliding off to sleep at two in the morning when my doorbell rings and then some crazy knocking starts. It sounds like an entire flock of wood-peckers is going to town on my door.
I leap out of bed to stop the madness from waking my neighbors. I’m not surprised at all when the peephole reveals Erin with her forehead all wrinkled up and a grimace on her face. She’s using both hands to try and wake me up.
“Cool your jets, woman, I’m coming.”
“Hurry. I’m in crisis. Big, big, massive crisis mode.”
I turn the locks and pull the door in. “How’d you get into the building?”
She brushes past me and goes right for the kitchen. “Irish charm. Works every time.” Pulling open the freezer door, she hesitates only a second before she’s grabbing a half-gallon container of Ben & Jerry’s. Two spoons come out of the drawer and then she’s on the couch, waving me over. “Come on. I only have a half hour.”
“Why only a half hour?” I’m amused by her mania.
“Because,” she says with her mouth full. She hands me a spoon. “That’s how long it’ll take for the bar to be cleaned and Barry to go home.”
“Barry?”
“My new barman.”
“So what’s going on with Michaél? Is he really here or were you just yanking my chain?”
She shakes her head, clearly miserable. “No, he’s really here and I’m in deep shit.”
I dig my spoon into her ice cream and eat it slowly to avoid the pain of a brain freeze. “Tell me.”
“He just showed up!” She waves her spoon around in outrage. “Out of the blue! Just walked right into the bar, sits down, and says, ‘Hello, Erin, I’m here for my real half of the bar.’” She shakes her head and digs into the ice cream again, taking out a chunk big enough to choke a horse. She nibbles at it as she reflects on her evening. “I told him he could stay in my place, because apparently he has some bitch lawyer telling him I’ll be paying all his expenses and he threatened to check into the Hilton.”
I put my hand on her arm to stop her. “He has an attorney? A female one?”
“Yes.”
“What’s her name? Where is she based? Here or Ireland?”
“No clue. I have zero clue. He said she does international law, though. That sounded scary.”
“You need to find out who she is and where she is. Having him be there while you’re both dealing with possible future litigation … it’s not a good idea.”
She glares at me, her mouth full of melted ice cream. “Ya think?”
“Just relax…”
“Ha! Relax? That’s a good one. I knew this was going to happen.” She jabs at the ice cream like she’s trying to kill it. “I should have told him the truth right from the beginning.”
I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Oh. So, you knew that he’d hop a plane two weeks after you got back, show up at your door, and demand more money, did ya?”
Her stabbing of the ice cream slows. “Not exactly. But something like that.”
“Listen.” I touch her arm so she’ll look at me. “You did the right thing from square one. This is how business deals always work. He had all the information available to him as a matter of public record. He could have asked for your records but he didn’t. That’s his stupid problem, not yours. I don’t care what he’s saying his lawyer told him. He does not have a case.” I squeeze her arm. “Do you hear me? He doesn’t. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I appreciate what you’re saying, Rid, but I feel like I have a lot to worry about.” She looks at me, sadness making her eyes red. “I don’t have the money for an attorney. I used the very last chunk I had to buy him out. If he takes me to court, I’m just going to have to give in because I can’t pay a solicitor to help me.”
I frown at her like she’s lost it, because clearly she has. “Hello? Am I not a fully-licensed attorney sitting right here next to you on the couch?”
She swirls the melting ice cream around in the container. “I can’t ask you to do that. Plus it’s not even up to you. Your big old law firm boss will never be okay with you working for free.”
“Bullshit. They do pro bono work all year long. We choose the projects we want to take on. I’ll take on yours.”
“Pro boner? That’s funny.” The first smile of the night lights up her face.
I lean back into the corner of the couch and nudge her with my food. “Stop freaking out. We just need to figure out how we’re going to handle this and come up with a game plan.”
Erin leans forwards to put the ice cream down on the coffee table. Then she takes the opposite side of the couch and faces me. We line our legs up next to each other and hug pillows as we plan and scheme.
“Okay, so first thing’s first,” I say, all business now, “do not under any circumstances admit to him that you did anything wrong.”
She looks uncomfortable. “Okaaaay…”
“What? What did you do?”
She cringes. “I might have whinged a little about how I’d worked my fingers to the bone and I wasn’t going to let my investment be given away to some stranger … or something to that effect.”
I bury my face in my pillow until I know I can give my friend a calmer expression. I slide the pillow down a few seconds later. “Okay. Fine. What’s done is done. But no more of that bullshit. I don’t care how tight his ass is, okay?”
She grins. “He does have a tight ass, that’s a fact. I’d forgotten just how tight until today.” Her eyes get a faraway look to them. “He’s handsomer in Boston. Is that possible, to be better looking in one country over another?”
I kick her thigh. “Focus, Erin. Seriously. Obviously he knows the effect he has on you and he’s playing you like a fiddle. Please don’t be so naive. This is your business. Your life. If you fuck this up, you put your entire future in jeopardy.”
She loses all that fantasy goo-goo eyed stuff and goes fearful. “Are you serious or are you just trying to scare me?”
I lower my head and stare her down. “What do you think?”
“You look serious.”
“I am. Worst case scenario, you say the wrong thing, he brings that info to his lawyer, they sue you, and you lose.”
“What happens then?”
“You have to get a loan to pay him off, which you probably won’t qualify for, or you bring him on as a partner if that’s what he wants — and then forget having control over the business decisions from then on — or even worse … you have a firesale of the bar.”
“A firesale? What’s that?”
“Where you sell fast to the highest bidder, and everyone bidding knows you’re in distress so they never offer even close to market value. You’ll lose pretty much everything. And then you share that terrible deal with Michaél!”
She buries her face in her pillow. I can barely understand her when she talks like that. “I am so fucked.”
“No, you’re not. Not necessarily.” I lean forward and pull her pillow off her face. “I need you to listen very carefully. I have a plan.”
She nods, blinking the tears away. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“Do you trust me?”
She nods again. “Completely.”
“Okay, then, do what I tell you to do without questioning it. Just do it.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Tonight, you go back to your apartment and you say nothing. Be too tired. Sleep alone, in your own room. Lock the door. You are not to have any sexual or semi-sexual interactions with him until this is all done.”