Paying three hundred thousand dollars of debt before being ordered out of the house
“Let’s get this done,” he said, checking his watch. “I have a conference call with James and the legal team in twenty minutes, and they are expecting a status update on the liquidation of the old accounts.”
“I will call you when Sarah confirms the routing is complete,” I said, placing the signed document into my leather portfolio and zipping it shut.
“Do that,” he said, already turning back toward his phone as it began to buzz on the counter. “I don’t want to spend another afternoon explaining to the board why we are behind schedule on the restructuring.”
The drive to Broad Street was quiet, the autumn wind scattering dry oak leaves across the asphalt of the expressway. The brick facade of the community bank looked solid, almost comforting under the gray Richmond sky as I walked inside.
The lobby was filled with the low murmur of transactions and the tapping of computer keyboards. Sarah, the commercial loan officer, was waiting for me in her glass-walled office at the back, surrounded by neat stacks of loan documents and folders.
