Temporary by Sarina Bowen & Sarah Mayberry

Author:Sarina Bowen & Sarah Mayberry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-12T07:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

One Tightly Wound Dude

Callan

Grace had been right—Gavin was one tightly wound dude. He popped up from the sofa when I entered, practically leaping forward to shake my hand.

“Gavin Tomic,” he said. “We met at the memorial last week.”

“I remember. You’re with the Robinson Center, right?” Bless Grace for making me look as though I had a steel-trap memory.

“That’s right. I’m the director. Your uncle was our foremost patron.”

“He supported a lot of charities,” I said neutrally. My spider-senses were tingling, telling me I was about to be hit up for a donation. Sadly for Gavin, all my available funds were already allocated for the quarter. It was tempting to cut straight to the chase and tell him as much, but he was so wound up I didn’t have the heart. “How can I help you?” I asked instead.

“I’m sorry for barging in like this,” he said, “but I didn’t know where else to go. Jack always talked about you with great fondness... I hoped maybe you’d be able to intervene on our behalf.”

I waved toward the sofa. “Grab a seat and tell me what’s happened.”

Gavin resumed his seat on the sofa and took a deep breath before diving into his explanation. “Your uncle had been working with us for some time on relocating the center from its current site in Brooklyn to a new, larger building on the Lower East Side. We found a building on Avenue B last June, and we had plans drawn up to renovate the new location. Jack committed to funding almost the entire project, and the work was supposed to commence next month. But I just heard back from the lawyers handling his estate that the remainder of the payments Jack had committed to won’t be honored.”

I closed my eyes for a brief, weary moment. Ah, Vicky, you’ve done it again.

“How much is outstanding?” I asked.

“Just under a million dollars,” Gavin said.

Fuck. If it had been less, I might have been able to shuffle my own finances around, but there was no way I could put my hands on that kind of money easily in the short term. My grandfather had made sure his grandchildren had substantial trusts, but the bulk of my assets were preferred shares of Walker Holdings stock.

“I don’t suppose you had anything in writing from Jack, stipulating the amounts he planned to donate? A sponsorship agreement, something like that?” I asked.

With something in writing, I could lean on Vicky. Make the case to honor Jack’s wishes.

Gavin shook his head, then spread his hands helplessly. “It was Jack,” he said, as if that explained everything. “He’s helped us out so many times in the past. We’ve got minutes from board meetings where his donation was discussed, emails, that sort of thing. But there’s no formal legal commitment. We simply didn’t think it was necessary.”

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think. I could try talking to Vicky, even without some kind of binding document to make her toe the line,

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