Vivian watched Ethan open the printer panel and remove a crumpled worksheet.
His hands were large enough to make the machine look fragile.
He smoothed the paper on the desk.
“There.”
Mia looked toward Vivian.
“Did he tell you Rescue Six saved forty-seven people?”
Ethan straightened.
“Mia.”
“What?”
“You’re supposed to be doing math.”
“I am.”
“You’re marketing the helicopter.”
Vivian looked toward the old photographs.
“Forty-seven?”
Ethan sighed.
“Documented rescues.”
“Who flew it?”
“Different people.”
He pointed toward the photograph Vivian had noticed.
“My wife among them.”
The word wife settled.
Vivian looked at his left hand.
No ring.
Mia’s pencil stopped moving for half a second.
Then continued.
Vivian understood.
“I’m sorry.”
Ethan nodded.
“Thank you.”
No explanation.
She did not ask.
The airfield manager poured coffee from an old metal machine.
Vivian accepted a paper cup.
It tasted terrible.
Ethan saw her face.
“You wanted coffee.”
“This qualifies legally?”
“Barely.”
Mia giggled.
Vivian sat across from Ethan at a scratched wooden table.
The airfield manager, whose name was Pete Lawson, placed the acquisition folder between them.
Vivian opened it.
“North Meridian offered twelve point eight million.”
Ethan nodded.
“That’s three times the county appraisal.”
“Yes.”
“And no.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ethan looked toward Mia.
Then at Vivian.
“Because you’re not buying an airfield.”
“What am I buying?”
“A closure.”
Vivian leaned back.
“Our proposal preserves aviation access during construction.”
“For eighteen months.”
“Yes.”
“Then Runway Two closes.”
“Runway Two needs major rehabilitation.”
“It does.”
“You can’t afford it.”
“Also true.”
“Your fuel tanks need replacement.”
“Within three years.”
“The western hangar roof needs structural work.”
“Pete?”
Pete looked offended.
“It leaks attractively.”
Vivian continued:
“You have debt.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“My financials were confidential.”
“The field is collateralized.”
“Public lien records.”
“That doesn’t tell you balance.”
“No.”
“Lake Union does.”
Vivian became quiet.
Ethan watched.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The part you didn’t know.”
Vivian put the folder down.
“What does Lake Union have?”
“My note.”
Pete muttered:
“Bastards.”
Ethan continued:
“Bank sold it six weeks ago.”
“To Lake Union?”
“Yes.”
Vivian’s mind moved quickly.
“How much?”
“Confidential.”
“Ethan.”
“You’re the company trying to buy my land.”
“Apparently a company I work with may also own your debt.”
“Work with?”