She held up the stack.
“Convenient.”
“Correct amount.”
She sighed theatrically.
Then counted two hundred-dollar bills.
Daniel gave her sixty-two dollars change.
She stared at the bills in her hand.
“Do you understand how strange this interaction is?”
“Not from my side.”
She placed the change in her handbag.
“I’m taking your daughter to breakfast.”
Daniel looked up.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a stranger.”
“I have been in your garage eight hours.”
“Still stranger.”
“I paid my invoice.”
“That makes you a customer.”
“Better.”
“No.”
Victoria leaned against the bench.
“Then you come.”
Daniel stared.
“What?”
“Breakfast.”
“Why?”
“Because you look like you’re going to collapse onto that engine.”
“I’m fine.”
“You have electrical tape on your hand instead of a bandage.”
Daniel looked at his knuckle.
“Temporary.”
“You’ve been wearing the same temporary repair for four hours.”
“You've been keeping track?”
Victoria smiled.
“Maybe.”
Daniel turned toward the invoice pad.
Then he saw the cream envelope underneath it.
His stomach tightened.
Too late.
Victoria had seen it too.
A red stripe crossed the top.
FINAL NOTICE.
She looked at Daniel.
He reached for it.
She was faster.
Not because she moved quickly.
Because he hesitated.
She lifted the letter.
“Give me that.”
“What is it?”
“None of your business.”
Victoria's eyes moved across the page.
Daniel stepped closer.
“Victoria.”
Then she froze.
Her gaze stopped near the bottom.
HALE MERIDIAN SPECIAL ASSETS III, LLC.
Daniel saw the recognition before he understood it.
Her face emptied.
Not shock exactly.
Something colder.
“No,” she whispered.
Daniel took the paper.
“What?”
Victoria looked at him.
Then at the letter.
Her company logo was printed in small black type beneath the servicing agent.
Daniel had never noticed it.
Why would he?
The notice came from a loan-servicing company.
He had focused on the amount.
The deadline.
Thirty days.
Foreclosure.
Victoria looked back at him.
“We own your loan.”
Daniel said nothing.
The engine behind them ticked softly as it cooled.
Victoria took a half step backward.
“Hale Meridian owns this debt.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“Your name is on the paper.”
“My company’s name.”
“That was the question.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I didn't know.”
Daniel looked at the letter.
Then at her dress.
The Porsche.
Her watch.
The wet black SUV waiting outside.
Everything rearranged itself.
“You came here because of this?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”