Page 19 of Tell Me What you Think

"I'm guessing you got the letter." Silence from Olga. "I wanted to call you myself first, but you know how lawyers are."

Olga doesn't, actually—but she keeps waiting.

"Look, I'm sorry it came to this, but I'm going through a really rough patch," Marc continued. "I'm getting divorced, and business hasn't been great lately—I won't bore you with all that. The thing is, when I was going through my dad's stuff, the papers from our grandparents turned up, and it turns out that whole thing was never properly sorted. Different times, I guess."

Olga bites down on her knuckle. Different times? This was only a few years ago.

"Nobody meant any harm, Olga, but it's unresolved, and what the law says is what the law says."

"The law probably also has something to say about what was divided up back then," she finally answered. "Because your dad kept the house in the village and our grandmother's savings."

"Well, money doesn't last, you know how it goes, and he sold the house before he died. Look, I know this sucks, but we can settle this between the two of us, no lawyers needed. We're family. We sit down, take a calm look at things, agree on a fair number, and we put this behind us."

"A fair number," Olga repeated, her voice sharp as a blade. "It was thoughtful of you to call, Marc, but from here on out, anything you have to say goes through your lawyers so they can talk to mine. Good night."

She hangs up before he can answer, feeling her heart slamming against her ribs and barely able to believe her cousin's nerve. She looks down at her hands and finds them shaking, and she knows that tonight she's not going to sleep either—because all of a sudden, the security she always found in these walls has been pulled out from under her. These walls that she always thought of as her refuge and that could now become her ruin.

She doesn't want to sell this apartment. She loves living here, and it's all she has left of her family. Too many memories are locked inside these walls—and she doesn't have the savings to buy Marc out either.

She pulls the blanket over herself and turns on the TV, clinging to the absurd hope that something on screen will manage to distract her.

Chapter 9

Three days later.

"You'll be looking at a very high volume," said Ferran Roca, the senior of the two Nauta partners at the meeting, glancing between Marina and Jordi before opening a folder that everyone at the table had a copy of. "But our portfolio isn't exceptional because of volume—it's exceptional because of client loyalty. Many of them have been with us since the company was founded twelve years ago."

Marina read through a couple of paragraphs.

"That's admirable loyalty, Mr. Roca," she said, making a note in the margin that she let Jordi read. "But how many of those contracts have a change-of-ownership clause?"

The two men exchanged a glance.

"That's covered in the documentation we provided."

The Executive Vice President—who had read the briefing before the meeting—shook her head.

"We have the client list, but we haven't seen any change-of-ownership clauses."

"If you can get those to us this week, that would be better than after the holidays," Jordi added pleasantly.

"Of course," said Duarte Almeida, the younger partner, who had come from Lisbon and had a slight lisp when he spoke. "Although you'll understand that our clients are sensitive to these kinds of rumors—we'd appreciate maximum discretion before the deal is executed."

"As long as we have all the documentation, that won't be a problem, Mr. Almeida."

The partners nodded and the senior one took the floor again. Marina glanced to her left, where Olga was seated to take notes—except that, even though her assistant seemed to think she hadn't noticed, she was being anything but efficient. Marina had been watching her all week, because Olga kept making small mistakes that were completely out of character, swinging between hyperalert and zoned out, as if two different versions of her were fighting for the wheel. In this meeting she seemed to be in the second mode: totally in her own world, her pen frozen above the notepad, her eyes fixed on some point on the table, then suddenly snapping back, blinking, scribbling fast, as if some part of her brain had held onto the relevant information but hadn't sent the signal to her hand in time. And that was without counting the phone. She kept checking it, slipping it out every few minutes and setting it face-down on her thigh.

"Should we take a look at the fee structure?" Jordi suggested, and that carried them through another two hours until they broke at midday, when Javier, the CEO, came down to have lunch with the two partners and play host.

When everyone filed out—Olga included—Marina stayed behind in the conference room to review the numbers before the afternoon session, but she found it hard to concentrate. Through the glass she could see her assistant pacing up and down the hallway, phone pressed to her ear, a desperate look on her face.

"Why don't you go grab some lunch?" Marina asked when she stepped out.

Olga was still in the hallway, though this time she'd stopped in front of the emergency exit, arms crossed over her chest, staring at the wall across from her. She blinked when she heard Marina and looked up into those blue eyes with their incredible lashes.

"Yeah, I'll head out in a sec."

"Are you okay?" Marina narrowed her eyes slightly.