Raging Fires by Candace Camp
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jake went to work out early, and it was barely nine o’clock when he left the stadium. He started toward home, then decided he’d stop and get Kelli’s mother some flowers. That’d be nice, right? Good son-in-law. Responsible guy. There was plenty of time. Kelli’s mom came in at 2, so he didn’t need to be there until 1:30. No, make that 1:15. Kelli was already nervous, and he didn’t want to cut it too close.
He exited the expressway early and went to the florist near Gran’s. When he came out, he stood for a moment, looking down the street. Michael Borelli’s house wasn’t far from here. He knew because he’d found out Mike’s address a couple of weeks ago. He just hadn’t worked up the nerve to go there. Ever since Kelli started talking about her mother and how she was going around apologizing to the people she’d hurt, the thought of Mike had kept nagging at Jake.
He wasn’t an addict, but there were certainly people he had wronged six years ago. Maybe he ought to do the same thing as Kelli’s mom. Make his peace with the people he’d hurt. Not everyone—he wasn’t really all that sorry about pissing off his first agent and several coaches who had blown up at him along the way, not to mention that guy he’d slugged. None of them mattered, anyway. Everybody in the sports business had shrugged it off long ago.
The only people who mattered were here. He’d already spewed his guts to Kelli, and it was too late to apologize to Pops. Gran had stopped him halfway through his speech with a bone-crushing hug and told him she already knew he never meant to hurt any of them; she was his grandmother, after all. That left Michael Borelli.
Jake got into his car; it was barely ten am. He wouldn’t even come close to cutting it close. Jake turned in the direction of Michael’s house. He drove down the block, looking at the numbers. Mike’s was the one with a for sale sign in the scrubby front yard. Jake took a breath, then got out and walked up to the front door. Mike was probably going to slam the door in his face, but he had to try.
He rang the doorbell and waited, and after a little while, the front door opened. Michael looked much the same as he had the last time Jake saw him: black-framed nerd glasses, flip-flops, a faded T-shirt with a stain on the front, and shorts with a hole near the hem. No wonder Kelli liked Mike; they both belonged to the never-let-go-of-anything club. Except Kelli looked good in her old tees, and Michael looked like he’d just fallen out of bed.
“Jake,” Michael said. “I saw it was you on the door camera.”
“I’m surprised you opened it then,” Jake replied.
“Yeah, so am I.” Mike shrugged. “What do you want?”
Jake glanced to the side, then down at the ground. How the hell do you do this? He stuck his hands in his pockets and said, “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Mike stared at him blankly. “You’re sorry for what?”
“For the way I acted six years ago. For acting like a douchebag. For…” Jake rotated his hand in a vague, all-encompassing gesture. “For being… whatever I was in Miami.”
Mike gaped at him. He pushed his glasses back up with one finger. “Seriously? You came here to apologize after six frigging years?”
“Well… yeah.”
“You are such a lame-assed idiot,” Michael said without heat and sighed, then stepped back. “Come in. It’s hot as hell out here.”
“Always is.” Jake walked inside.
“Yeah. I should have moved to Seattle.” Michael led him down the hallway, passing by a room that had probably once been a dining room, but was now dominated by computer equipment. “But my great-grandmother left me this house, so…” He shrugged.
They stopped in a living area, and Michael waved toward the couch. “You want something to drink? A beer? Soda?”
“I’m fine.” Jake sat down on the couch, feeling awkward, and Michael flopped into a chair nearby.
“I heard about Pops,” Michael said. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” Jake nodded. “How’re your parents?”
“They’re fine.”
“Good.” This was excruciating. “Look. Mike. I can’t explain why I acted like I did. I didn’t mean to offend you; I wasn’t thinking straight back then. I’m not sure why I changed like that.”
“Money and fame,” Michael supplied. He settled back in his chair, looking a little more comfortable.
“Yeah. I guess. Thing was, I knew right off what I’d done, but I was too embarrassed to try to talk to you. And then Kelli left, and I kinda went off the rails.”
Michael was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I heard. Everybody screws up, man. You just always did things in a truly spectacular way.”
Jake smiled faintly and leaned back. “Yeah, I seem to.”
“So what are you doing back in town? Mom told me you and Kelli got married again.”
“Yeah, sort of.” Jake waved it away. “Long story.”
“Mom said it was because that was the only way you could get the Blue Shack.”
“Well, not so long then, I guess.”
“That’s messed up.”
Jake nodded. “So what are you doing? Something with computers, I take it.”
“Yeah. We have a start-up. Developing apps. At least, we did.” Michael added bitterly.
Jake looked over at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s like you said… long story.”
Jake didn’t know what to say. It was obvious there was something bothering Michael. Back when they were friends, Jake would have badgered Mike until he told him what it was. But that wasn’t the kind of thing Jake could do with him anymore.
He probably ought to leave. He’d said what he had to say, and it seemed pretty clear that this was the end of it. It wasn’t like they were going to become best buds again. But he continued to sit. Michael jumped up. “I’m going to have a beer.”
“A beer?” Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s not even eleven o’clock.”
“I’ve been up since three.” Michael didn’t go to the kitchen for a drink. Instead, he began to pace, walking away, then back.
“You were working on an app?” Jake felt totally lost.
“No. No. Just thinking.”
Okay. Jake decided to try another topic. “So, why are you selling the house? You aren’t leaving Phoenix, are you?”
“No. I’m not leaving. I just have to sell.” Mike’s eyes glittered, and Jake had the awful feeling those were tears in his eyes. What was he going to do if Mike started crying? He wished Kelli was here; she’d have it out of Mike in three seconds.
“Michael, you’re freaking me out here. What is going on?”
“I messed up so bad.” Michael dropped back down to the chair, his breath coming out in a large whoosh. “Mom keeps asking me why I’m selling the house and where’s Gary?”
“Who?”
“My business partner.”
“So why don’t you just tell your mother where he is? Why you’re selling the house? What’s the deal?”
“I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone how bad I messed up.” Michael paused and looked at Jake, then shrugged. “Well, I guess I couldn’t have screwed up more spectacularly than you.”
“Happy to provide my friends a low standard to live up to.”
Michael laughed, and for the first time, things felt more right. “I was such a total idiot. I didn’t pay any attention to what was going on. We had good ideas; we got some start-up capital. I was the tech guy, and Gary was the business guy.”
“Uh-oh,” Jake said. “I can guess what’s coming.”
“Exactly.” Michael nodded at him. “Gary was spending our money on all kinds of stuff for himself—cars, clothes, a boat—instead of the business.”
“A boat’s a real necessity in Arizona,” Jake commented dryly.
“Right?!? I don’t know what the guy’s problem was. How could he not realize that eventually it would all come out? Why not use it like we planned to, invest in the business, and wait for the money to come in? It would have been way more money for him. I’m that… ah, hell.” Michael slumped back into his chair. “It doesn’t matter now. He not only cleaned us out, he charged stuff on our business card and left me with a bunch of debt. I have to pay that off, and I can’t keep going with no money. And that’s why I’m selling the house.”
“You own this house, don’t you? Couldn’t you take out a mortgage on it and use the money?”
“I already did that.” Michael gave him a grim smile. “It was part of our capital that we started with. The house is worth more than the loan, but they won’t let me take out a second mortgage on the rest of it because the loan amount is too small! I don’t understand it, but somehow they wouldn’t be making enough money. I tried to get a business loan from the bank to keep it afloat, but they won’t do it.”
“Mike, if you need the money, I can—”
“No!” Michael straightened, glaring at Jake. “I’m not taking money from you. I didn’t tell you this so you’d feel sorry for me and bail me out. I just… it seemed like you were somebody I could talk to.”
“I am. I understand doing stupid stuff. I know exactly what you’re talking about. I wasted lots of money, and I didn’t pay attention to all the things my business guy was doing. I hate that stuff, and I trusted him. Which was completely dumb and naïve. And then I felt like an idiot for trusting him.”
“You lost all your money?” Michael gaped.
“No. Just part of it. Probably half. I still have enough that I can invest money in things. You know, like capital for start-up businesses.”
Michael sighed. “Jake, I’m not taking your money. I’m not refusing because you hurt my feelings six years ago. It wouldn’t be the same if you’re paying me. You were my friend, and I—our friendship was important to me. I don’t want to spoil that.”
“It was important to me, too, Mike. It wouldn’t change things if I loaned you the money; it’d just be a business transaction.”
“I can’t.” Michael shook his head.
Jake made a disgusted noise. “Most people would love to have someone offer them money. You and Kelli act like it’s a sin or something.”
“And that’s why you can trust Kelli and me more than the others.”
“I still think it’s just too much pride.” Jake crossed his arms and thought. “Okay. Okay. How about this? You’ve talked to this guy at the bank about a loan, right?”
“Yeah.”
“He turned you down because of no collateral.” Michael nodded. “Well, what about if I co-signed it? Guaranteed it. You know, like my dad had to do with me when I got my first car. Remember?”
“I remember the car. It was sweet.”
“Dad didn’t have to shell out any cash. And I was the one who had to be responsible and pay it. He was just back-up, so they wouldn’t get all nervous.”
“Yeah, but if you did that, you’d be on the hook if I didn’t pay it.”
“Mike.” Jake fixed him with a stern look. “Are you telling me you’re going to default on the loan? That you don’t really believe your business is going to succeed?”
“No! Of course not. I’ll pay it. And I’m not going to fail. Even if I did, I’d pay off the loan. I could still sell the house.”
“There you go, then. I’ll guarantee it. You’ll get the money. I know you’ll pay the bank. And we’ll both feel good about it.” Jake could see the hope springing into Michael’s eyes, warring for a moment with his pride and his outsized reluctance to borrow money from a friend. He was wavering. Jake gave him a nudge over the edge. “Look. I’m doing you a favor. Friends do favors for each other all the time. If I needed to jump start my car, you’d help me do it, right?”
“Yeah, except my car’s electric, so I couldn’t—”
“This is hypothetical, man. I’m just saying, doing a favor is an entirely different thing from borrowing money. Favors are what friends do.”
“Yeah. I guess.” Michael relaxed, smiling, relief all over him. “I’ll call the guy at the bank.” He dug out his phone and dialed.
Wow, he had the banker’s number in his contacts. He must have been calling the guy a lot. Maybe the man would go along with this idea just to get Mike off his case. Michael waited for a while, then talked for a while. Mike quit talking and turned to Jake, holding his phone against his chest to mute it. “Could you do it now? He said his afternoon’s booked up, but he’s free in fifteen minutes.”
“Yeah, sure.” Michael looked too happy for Jake to turn him down. Then he remembered Kelli’s mom, and he checked the time. Okay. He had two hours before he’d said he’d be home. That was plenty of time. Pop in, talk, sign, and he’d be gone. No problem. “Let’s do it.”
They took two cars so Jake could leave straight from the bank. Inside there was the usual kind of wait: see the receptionist, take a seat, Mr. Ferguson would be with them shortly.
So they sat. Jake hated waiting. He reached for his phone to check the time. Crap, he’d left it in the car. He started to go out and get it, but he’d just have to turn off the sound in here anyway—the place was as hushed as a library. He crossed his arms and stretched out his legs, leaning back and closing his eyes.
He must have drifted off a little because Michael’s voice brought him awake. “He’s ready.”
Jake sat up straight and tried to look responsible. Probably wearing his work-out clothes wasn’t the best look for that. The man walking toward them gave them a tight smile, like he wished he was anywhere but here, and led them back to his office.
Once they were seated, Michael launched into his explanation of what they wanted. The loan officer listened, frowning, and gave Jake a long look. Jake gazed back, crossing his arms. He didn’t like this guy.
“Well, of course, the guarantor has to have an excellent credit rating,” Ferguson said, drawing out the end in a faint question.
“You don’t watch football, do you?” Michael said. “He’s famous.”
The man looked at Jake doubtfully. Seriously, did he look that disreputable?
“Just look up my credit score,” Jake told him.
“Of course.” Ferguson opened a drawer and whipped out several pieces of paper and gave them to Jake to fill out.
Things had been easier back when people’s mouths dropped open when they met him. Jake sighed and picked up a pen. After filling in every bit of information about himself but his shoe size, Jake handed the paper back to him. Then Ferguson began to type all the information into his computer. Jesus. The guy couldn’t have just asked him all that stuff and filled it in?
Then Ferguson spent several more minutes gazing at his computer screen, typing periodically and nodding now and then. “Yes, well, this certainly looks excellent.” He looked up and gave them that stiff smile—Jake was pretty sure the man didn’t have any other kind. “All righty, then. I’ll just send this to the printer, and then I’ll take it to the branch manager.”
He keyed in some things, scooped up the file folder on his desk and left. Jake cast a sideways glance at Michael and said, “All righty, then?”
Michael laughed. Then he said, “Remember that Latin teacher at St. Boni’s?”
“God, yes! The thin guy with the middle part in his hair?”
“Yeah. The one that always said, ‘okey-dokey-smokey?’
“How could I forget?”
They laughed and began to reminisce about St. Boniface Academy. But after a few minutes of memories, Jake was antsy again. “What is he doing?”
“Who knows? Maybe he went to the break room and ate first.”
“What time is it?” Jake reached for his phone. Right. It was out in the car.
Michael pulled out his phone and said, “One fifteen. Why? Did you need to go somewhere?”
“I told Kelli I’d be home by now. One-thirty at the latest.”
“Oh. Well, you could go on and leave, and we could come back and sign the papers some other time.” Michael said reasonably, but he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his eyes.
“No. That’s too much trouble; let’s go ahead and do it. I’ll just tell her I’ll be a little late; her mom can wait at the airport a few extra minutes. Could I borrow your phone? Mine’s in the car.”
“Sure.” Michael handed over his phone. “You—won’t—I mean, could you not tell her about this... about me and having to…” He made a vague circling gesture, his cheeks flooding red with embarrassment.
“Okay. No problem. I’ll just say I’m late.”
“Promise?”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Yes, Michael, I promise you. I won’t tell Kelli.”
Jake started to send her a text, then stopped. Calling would be better. She was probably already irritated with him. But she would calm down when she learned it was important. He’d have to think of some other reason than helping Mike, though.
Her voice mail came on after a few rings, and Jake left a message, “It’s me, Kell, I’m going to be a few minutes later than I said. But don’t freak out. I’ll be there really soon. I just… got caught up in something important. Your mom’s plane will probably be late anyway. And she has to get her bags and all that. No problem for her to wait at the airport a little while.”
He held onto the phone, thinking she’d call right back, but she didn’t, and a couple of minutes later, he returned it to Michael. Her silence worried him; she was apparently more upset than he’d thought. Kelli had been really anxious about her mom’s visit. Maybe he ought to do like Mike said and leave, come back later.
At that moment, the loan officer breezed in, carrying a bunch of papers. “I’m happy to say you’ve been approved, Mr. Borelli, with the co-sign, of course.”
He proceeded to lay out the papers and explain this and that. Jake began to jiggle his knee again, and finally burst out, “Okay, look. You can explain all that to Mike. I have to leave. Just tell me where I need to sign.”
With a disapproving look, Ferguson pointed out where to sign on multiple pages and where to put his initials in certain places. Jake really wished Mike had just let him give him the money. But finally he was done, and he bolted from the room. On the way out to the car, he tried to think of an excuse that was good enough that Kelli would understand. He shouldn’t have promised Mike he’d keep it secret. It was just, he knew how bad it made you feel to have to admit that you’d screwed up to someone you liked and respected. Look at how he’d avoided Pops.
No. He wasn’t going to make up a story. He’d just tell her he couldn’t tell her because he’d promised. She’d believe him if he told her the delay was unavoidable. And, seriously, they weren’t going to be more than maybe thirty minutes late.
He jumped into his car and started the engine, then grabbed his phone from the cup holder and swiped it. Damn, it was after 2. The notification screen came up: 3 voicemails. Nine texts from Kelli. His stomach tightened. He flipped to the texts:
1:04 Mom called. Caught an earlier flight. Pls come home.
1:05 Please! I’m freaking out! Text me!
1:08 Jake! Where are you!?! Call me.
1:09 Why aren’t you answering your phone? I need you.
1:12 Are you ok? Did something happen to Gran?
1:15 Where are you? I’m getting really worried now.
1:20 I called Gran and Asa. Nobody knows where you are. What’s going on?
1:25 WTF are you doing? You promised!!!
1:28 I’m leaving for the airport. If you aren’t lying bleeding somewhere, I am going to kill you!!!
2:10 Never mind. Don’t need you.
“Oh, crap.”