Chapter 18 - Eleven People WaitingMy payroll deadline was forty-eight hours away. The client owed us €74,000 for completed work, and now the payment was on hold. Technically, I could cover salaries from reserve funds, but doing so would leave almost nothing for vendors. Javier and Mercedes had failed to take our money directly; their rumors might still choke the company.
I wanted to call the client and scream. Instead, I asked for a meeting and brought our attorney, our accountant, and signed inspection reports proving the project milestones were complete.
The client's finance director looked uncomfortable. “The letter alleges misuse of company funds.”
“Please ask the sender for evidence,” Lucía said. “Our records are available for review under appropriate confidentiality terms. An allegation from an interested third party is not a finding.”
I turned toward the director. “My people did their jobs. Your rooms are open. Guests are sleeping in spaces we designed. Pay for the work you accepted.”
He nodded slowly. “We'll release the undisputed portion today and complete an accelerated review on the balance.”
It wasn't a miracle, but it was enough.
Back at Morales Studio, I told the staff the truth about the tight week and our contingency plan. I offered to show Daniel the bank confirmation privately so he could reassure anyone who needed it. Nobody applauded. They returned to their desks, which was better. Trust looked like ordinary work continuing.
Inés lingered by my door. “I used to wonder why you never fought back when Javier interrupted you at parties.”
“I thought keeping the peace was a kind of love.”
“What do you think now?”
“I think peace that depends on one person swallowing everything isn't peace.”
That night a message arrived from Javier: I've signed a statement about the signature file and the loan draft. My lawyer has it. I'll cooperate with lawful requests.
I read it twice. I'd once imagined that hearing him admit the truth would make me want him back. Instead, I felt tired and unexpectedly free.
Then Lucía called with a different problem.
“The bank has requested a formal review of the attempted guarantee,” she said. “They're asking who authorized Javier to hold himself out as your representative.”
“No one did.”
“I believe you. But there is an old power-of-attorney form in the file. It's genuine enough to require an explanation.”
I remembered signing something at Javier's insistence two years earlier, just before a trip.
For the first time, I was afraid that one of the signatures really might be mine.
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