Free Underwater by Julia McDermott Page A

animosity.”
    “You’re a fucking lunatic ,” he screamed. “You’ve treated me like shit, not the other way around. As always.”
    Candace spoke slowly. “I know it’s difficult, but you need to understand this. If you don’t comply with the terms of our agreement, if you aren’t forthright with me and David, I’ll take over the whole damn thing and get it sold myself. Immediately. You and your family can find another place to live.”
    “I’ll tell Helen you were thrilled to hear about her pregnancy, Candace.”
    “Do that, Monty. Tell her I wish her the best,” she said. Despite her earlier resolve, she continued, “And tell her something else for me: Rob Chandler and I are getting married this fall in New York. She can email me your new address this summer for your invitation to my wedding.”
    “I don’t think so. She’ll be eight months pregnant by then. None of your family will be able to attend.”
    “Good-bye, Monty.” She hung up and dropped the phone into her bag.

    David Shepherd finished his lunch at the Best Spot Bakery and began to walk the short distance back to his office in the Jefferson-Sloan Building. It was a beautiful April day, with the sun shining high in a cloudless sky at the end of the noon hour. Manicured rows of flowers bloomed along both sides of Peachtree Street, lining the sidewalk and filling every possible space surrounding the downtown hotels, storefronts, and skyscrapers. Spring in Atlanta was lovely, but with it came the pollen season, and David suffered from it every year. He took allergy medication daily beginning in late February and was never without his handkerchief.
    His phone vibrated in his pocket. Retrieving it, he saw it was Candace Morgan. He cleared his throat and answered the call.
    “Hi, David. I spoke to Monty this morning.”
    “You took his call?”
    “No—I called him back. He’d left me a voicemail earlier saying Helen’s pregnant.”
    “So you offered your congratulations, I presume—”
    “Yes, but I didn’t leave it at that, unfortunately. I started questioning him about the house and his lack of communication about it. Then he launched into a tirade and attacked me personally. Apparently he still doesn’t have the C.O. The three of them are still living in that one-bedroom guesthouse in the back, and the baby is due in November.”
    David reached Capstone Road and turned the corner. “Did you ask him if he’s found a job?”
    “After he accused me of not giving him enough funds to complete the project, after he said I’d be ‘ fucked’ if he walks away, I told him to find a job and make the money to finish it.”
    David entered an elevator and punched in the number fifteen. “And he said?”
    “That he is working—as general contractor on the place. Then he implied that I should be paying him a salary.”
    David bit his lip. “How did the conversation end?”
    “Badly. I stayed calm, but I said that if he doesn’t start complying with the terms we agreed to, I’ll take over, sell it for whatever it will fetch, and they’ll have to find somewhere else to live.”
    David exited the elevator. “Did you give him a deadline? A date?”
    Candace sighed. “No. Well, I used the word ‘ immediately.’ ”
    “Okay, look,” David said as he entered his private office at Elite Financial Planning. He shut the door and sat down at his desk. “If you like, I’ll draft an email to him for your review. I can list the items that we have received from him so far and spell out what we still need, and by what date. Meanwhile, I’ll contact Whitney Jamison at the bank and find out the status on the HELOC.”
    “Yes, do that. But before you call her, before you even write the email, do something else. Go back and figure out how much money I’ve given him, how much I’ve lent him directly, and how much I’m liable for on what I cosigned. Then when you talk to Whitney, verify the loan amounts—make sure your information is