Chapter 5: Denise's Price
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood her.
“Your mother?”” I asked.
Tasha nodded, tears running down her cheeks.
“Please don't make me explain this here.””
I glanced toward the backyard. Through the kitchen windows, I could see Denise standing beside the picnic table, talking rapidly to Brittany. Every few seconds, she looked toward the house.
She knew something had happened.
She just didn't know how much we knew.
“Nicole,” I said, “would you mind giving us a few minutes?””
My attorney studied Tasha before answering.
“I'll be in the living room. If either of you needs me, I'll be right there.””
She gathered the papers, leaving copies of the relevant correspondence on the counter, then walked away.
I closed the kitchen door.
“Start at the beginning.””
Tasha sat on a stool and gripped the edge of the island.
“Mom found out about Robert through one of her friends. His company helps people invest in property, and he said he could help us get a second house.””
“Us?””
“Yes.””
“Why would your mother be involved in our investments?””
Tasha looked down.
“Because she thought you weren't doing enough for me.””
I stared at her.
“Your mother thinks I haven't done enough for you?””
“She thinks I deserve more.””
“More than a home, financial stability, and a partner who has spent four years trying to build a future with you?””
“Don't make it sound like that.””
“Then tell me what it sounds like.””
She rubbed her eyes.
“Mom said you were using your business as an excuse to avoid commitment. She said if you really intended to marry me, you would have put something in my name by now.””
I leaned against the counter.
“And you agreed?””
“I didn't know what to think.””
“You could have asked me.””
“I did ask you! I asked you about marriage. I asked you about buying property together. You always told me we had time.””
“Because we did.””
“I'm thirty-one, Marcus! I don't want to spend another five years waiting for a man to decide whether I'm worth building a life with.””
The desperation in her voice was real. I could hear it beneath the anger.
For a second, I saw the woman I had fallen in love with: the woman who wanted a family, a stable home, and a future she could trust.
Then I remembered the message about the signature.
“Wanting commitment isn't wrong, Tasha,” I said.
“But you don't get to manufacture it by putting my property at risk.””
She nodded weakly.
“I know.””
“Do you?””
“Yes.””
I waited.
She took a shaky breath.
“Mom invited me to dinner about six weeks ago. She said she had something important to discuss. Robert was there.””
I frowned.
“You met him at your mother's dinner?””
“Yes. He brought some brochures and showed us pictures of houses. He said people with equity could use it to expand their investments without selling everything they owned.””
“That can be a legitimate strategy when the owner knowingly agrees to it.””
“I know that now.””
“Did he tell you that my company owned the house?””
“Yes.””
“Then how did he think he could arrange anything without my consent?””
Tasha looked away.
“He said there were ways to make the paperwork easier.””
My hands curled into fists.
“What does that mean?””
“He said that if he had an authorization document, he could start the process while we worked out the details.””
“What authorization document?””
“The one Nicole showed you.””
I stared at her.
“Did you create it?””
“No. Robert sent me a template. I didn't fill in the signature.””
“Then who did?””
She shook her head.
“I don't know. He said he had a way to prepare it.””
“Did you ask him how?””
“No.””
“Why not?””
“Because I didn't want to know!””
The confession came out as a sob.
She pressed both hands over her face.
“I thought he was going to arrange a meeting with you. I thought he would show you the numbers and convince you it was a good idea. I never thought he would use a fake signature.””
“Yet you knew he was preparing documents without my approval.””
She didn't respond.
I turned away, staring through the window at the backyard.
A group of guests had begun collecting their belongings. Darnell was helping an older relative carry a cooler toward the driveway. The party was falling apart in slow motion, one uncomfortable goodbye at a time.
I had paid for the food, the decorations, and the drinks.
I had cooked for people who laughed while Tasha humiliated me.
And now I was discovering that while I had been trying to build a future with her, she had been discussing my property with a man I had never met.
“What did your mother get out of this?”” I asked.
Tasha went quiet.
I turned back.
“What did Denise get out of it?””
“Robert said he would pay her a consulting fee if the investment went through.””
“How much?””
“Twenty-five thousand dollars.””
The number hung between us.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked, “Did your mother know about the signature?””
Tasha shook her head.
“I don't know.””
“You just told me she came up with the plan.””
“She wanted me to have something of my own! She didn't tell me to forge anything.””
“Did she know Robert was preparing an authorization document?””
Tasha hesitated.
“Yes.””
I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, she was watching me with the frightened expression of someone who had finally realized the consequences of a decision she had spent weeks justifying.
“Does Denise know the property belongs to my company?””
“Yes.””
“Did you tell her I hadn't agreed to the transaction?””
“Yes.””
“Then she knew you were trying to arrange something involving my property without my consent.””
Tasha began crying again.
“I didn't think it would actually happen.””
I walked to the living room and called Nicole back into the kitchen.
I told her what Tasha had revealed, including the proposed payment to Denise.
Nicole listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she asked Tasha a series of direct questions about the dinner, the correspondence, and the documents she had shared.
Tasha answered some questions clearly. Others, she couldn't answer.
Nicole wrote everything down.
“Marcus,” she said when the questioning ended, “we need to separate what we know from what we suspect. The correspondence gives us grounds to investigate a possible attempted unauthorized transaction, but we need to verify the original documents, the communications, and who created the signature.””
“Understood.””
“I also recommend that you secure any remaining property records and review access to your business accounts. Don't confront Mr. Carter or attempt to recover documents from him yourself.””
I nodded.
Tasha looked between us.
“You're really going to involve the police?””
“If the evidence supports reporting this, yes,” I answered.
“But I'm your girlfriend.””
“That doesn't make it less serious.””
She slid off the stool and grabbed my arm.
“Marcus, please. My mother made a mistake. I made a mistake. You can still fix this.””
I gently removed her hand.
“Fix what?””
“Our relationship.””
I looked at her for a long moment.
“I don't know if there's anything left to fix.””
She flinched.
Before she could respond, the kitchen door swung open.
Denise stood in the doorway, her handbag hanging from one shoulder.
“What on earth is going on in here?”” she demanded.
Her eyes landed on Nicole's briefcase.
Then on the documents scattered across the counter.
Finally, she looked at Tasha.
“Did you tell him?””
Tasha froze.
I watched Denise's expression change as she realized what she had just said.
She tried to recover.
“Tell him what? I meant, did you tell him about the barbecue? Because this whole scene is ridiculous.””
I stepped toward her.
“You offered Robert Carter twenty-five thousand dollars in consulting fees, didn't you?””
Denise's face hardened.
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
“Then explain why your daughter says you arranged the meeting.””
“My daughter is upset. She's always been emotional.””
Tasha stared at her mother.
“Mom, stop.””
Denise ignored her.
“Marcus, you need to understand something. My daughter has invested four years of her life in you. She deserves a future.””
“Not one built on unauthorized paperwork.””
“You're making accusations you can't prove.””
Nicole stepped forward.
“That's why the documents will be reviewed before any conclusions are reached.””
Denise's eyes narrowed.
“You lawyers always make everything sound criminal.””
“No,” Nicole replied.
“We make sure people understand the consequences of what they sign.””
Denise turned toward Tasha.
“Get your things. We're leaving.””
Tasha didn't move.
“Mom, I need to talk to Marcus.””
“You've talked enough.””
“No. I haven't.””
Denise's mouth tightened.
For the first time, Tasha didn't look away.
“You told me Robert could help us. You said everything was legal. You said Marcus would eventually agree.””
“And he would have,” Denise snapped, “if you hadn't panicked and told him everything.””
The room went silent.
Denise seemed to hear her own words a second too late.
I stared at her.
“You expected me to agree after the paperwork was prepared?””
She lifted her chin.
“You're a successful businessman. You understand negotiations.””
“Negotiations require consent.””
“Oh, please. Nobody was trying to steal your house.””
Nicole looked down at the printed correspondence.
“Then I assume you'll have no objection to providing the communications that explain the proposed transaction.””
Denise's face went rigid.
“I don't have to provide you anything.””
“That's your choice,” Nicole replied.
“The appropriate authorities can determine what is relevant.””
Denise grabbed Tasha's wrist.
“We're leaving. Now.””
Tasha pulled free.
“No!””
Her mother stared at her in disbelief.
Tasha's voice shook, but she continued.
“You told me you were helping me secure my future. You never told me you were taking money from Robert.””
“I was helping you!””
“You were getting paid!””
“For bringing an opportunity to the table!””
“An opportunity that involved Marcus's house!””
Denise's expression twisted.
“You ungrateful girl. Everything I've done for you—”
“Stop!”” Tasha shouted.
The word echoed through the kitchen.
For several seconds, mother and daughter stared at each other.
Then Denise turned to me.
“You think you're better than us because you've made a little money?””
“No,” I said.
“I think I deserved honesty.””
She scoffed.
“Honesty doesn't buy a woman security.””
“No. But dishonesty can destroy the life she's trying to build.””
Denise snatched her handbag from the counter and stormed toward the door.
Before leaving, she turned back to Tasha.
“Don't call me when this blows up in your face.””
The door slammed.
Tasha collapsed onto the nearest stool.
I stood there, watching her cry, and felt no satisfaction at all.
I had wanted to be wrong about her.
I had wanted an explanation that made sense, something that allowed us to sit down and repair what had gone wrong.
Instead, every answer had opened another door.
Nicole gathered the documents.
“Marcus, there's one more thing we need to discuss.””
I looked at her.
“What now?””
She pulled a final page from the folder.
“Mr. Carter included a draft of the proposed transaction. It identifies the property intended to secure the investment.””
She placed the page on the counter.
I read the address.
It wasn't the house where we were standing.
It was a small rental property I owned on the other side of Atlanta.
A property that had nothing to do with Tasha's living arrangements.
And beneath its address was a proposed loan amount of $480,000.
I looked at Nicole.
“Why would he be borrowing against that property?””
Nicole's expression was grave.
“Because someone appears to have convinced him that you had agreed to use it as collateral.””
Then she turned the page.
May you like
At the bottom, beside the words Proposed Beneficiary, was a name I recognized.
*Denise Williams.*
