Weaving the Strands

by Barbara Hinske

  “We need to work on this from all angles,” Maggie interjected. “We’ve got two areas of attack—the legitimacy of the increase under the ground lease and a possible increase in the sublease. The ground lease documents are two inches thick; we’ll need to hire our outside law firm to assist us. I asked Bill Stetson for an estimate. He told me it would cost at least $20,000 for his firm to handle the matter.”

  “This town is broke; has he forgotten that? We don’t have an extra twenty grand in the budget,” Isaac sputtered.

  “I’m not sure we have much choice,” Tonya said.

  “I’d like to lead the effort to tackle this problem,” Haynes volunteered. All heads snapped toward him. “Most of my restaurants are leased, so I’ve got a lot of experience beating up landlords. So to speak,” he added quickly. “Let’s hold off on engaging Stetson & Graham.”

  “This will require a lot of your time over the next few weeks, Frank,” Maggie replied. “Aren’t you already working too much? Are you sure you want to take this on?”

  “Quite sure. And if it gets to be too much, we can hire the firm. Let me take a crack at it first.”

  Maggie relaxed into her chair. “Terrific. Thank you, Frank. You’re the ideal member to handle this. I’m sure we’re all very grateful to you.”

  Haynes shrugged as everyone around the table nodded their assent. “Fairview Terraces is in my district. If we have to raise their rent, things could get sticky for me.”

  “Working with Fairview and the senior community will require a delicate touch,” Isaac noted. “I think that Councilwoman Holmes and Mayor Martin are the best suited for that job.”

  Tonya turned to Maggie. “I’m willing if you are.”

  “We’ve got a plan, then,” Maggie replied. “Let’s get busy.”

  Chapter 13

  Frank Haynes pulled the résumé off the stack and checked his watch. He still had two minutes before his phone interview with Loretta Nash. He sighed impatiently. Her time zone was three hours behind his, and he’d stayed at his office late so that they could talk after the conclusion of her workday. If he hired her, this would be the last concession he would make for her. Still, her background and experience were just what he was looking for.

  Haynes punched in her number and idly tapped his pen on his desktop. He was about to hang up when she answered on the sixth ring.

  “Loretta Nash,” said the pleasant voice on the other end of the line.

  “Frank Haynes, Ms. Nash. I believe you were expecting my call? Is this still a good time to talk?” he said with manufactured solicitude.

  “Yes it is. Thank you.”

  “Good. Let me start by telling you a bit about my company and what we’re looking for.” He launched into his now-familiar interview script and ran through his part in record time, ending with the requirement that the successful applicant must relocate. He asked if she knew anything about Westbury.

  After a long pause Loretta replied, “I believe there’s an estate there known as Rosemont. That’s about all I know about the place.”

  Her answer brought him up short. He struggled to recover and sputtered, “You’re right. There’s a Rosemont here. How do you know about that? What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing, really. I’ve never even seen a picture. A friend of mine inherited it several years back.”

  “Ah … so you know Maggie Martin?” Haynes asked. If she were a friend of their mayor, this interview would be over in a heartbeat. No way would he allow her near his business.

  “No,” Loretta said. “I was a friend of Paul Martin.”

  Haynes’ head snapped up so fast it bounced off the back of his leather chair. This was the most tantalizing piece of news he’d heard in months. His Cheshire cat grin spread across his face, and his voice oozed friendliness. “Is that right?” he crooned. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Loretta murmured.

  Haynes wasn’t sure where to go with this information. He needed time to investigate Loretta Nash. “Ms. Nash,” he said, resuming a businesslike demeanor, “I’ve very much enjoyed our conversation. It’s getting late and I have another appointment, but I’d like to discuss this opportunity with you further. May I have the recruiter set up another call in a few days? Good. I’ll look forward to it. Thank you for your time. Have a pleasant evening.”

  Haynes immediately punched his speed dial button. “I’ve got another investigation for you,” he stated as soon as the other party answered. “In Scottsdale, Arizona. I want you out there by noon tomorrow.”

  “Hold on, Frank. I can’t drop everything I’m workin’ on.”

  “I want a report on Loretta Nash on my desk by the end of the week. If you’ve got a problem with that, I’ll find someone else.”

  “Not a problem, Frank. Not a problem.”

  Haynes replaced the phone on the receiver. This Loretta Nash knew Paul Martin and not Maggie? What were the chances of that? Paul had inherited Rosemont and never told his wife, which was very odd. He had kept that secret from her. Maybe he had kept others as well. Frank Haynes was going to find out. He’d always believed the old saying that knowledge is power; he was going to get power over Martin, one way or another. He leaned back in his generous leather chair and smiled.

  ***

  The report came in a day earlier than expected. He quickly opened the email and downloaded the attached photos and documents. They’d hit pay dirt. Loretta Nash had been Paul’s mistress, supported handsomely until he died and it all fell apart. She was now living a hand-to-mouth existence. Tough to get tossed out of a big, fancy house in Scottsdale and have the car repossessed. He laughed out loud at the mental images. Still, she wasn’t a bad-looking woman. He wondered why she hadn’t latched onto some other accommodating old fool. Women like that usually did.

  The pièce de résistance was her young child. Was it Paul’s? If so, why hadn’t she tried to get a piece of his estate? Had she even thought of that? She would be entitled to support for the child if it was his. A big if, he realized.

  Haynes paused and stared unseeing out the window. This Loretta Nash opened up all sorts of possibilities. If she was a decent bookkeeper, that would be icing on the cake. If not, he had seen enough to make him want to have her right here in Westbury, regardless of what she could contribute to his business.

  ***

  Loretta Nash relaxed as she buckled her seat belt and made sure her tray table was locked in the upright position. It had been ages since she had been away from her kids, not at work, and all on her own. Not since before Paul died. The break would do her good. Frank Haynes seemed nice enough even though there was something a bit odd about him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but for now she didn’t care. He was paying for this trip and she was going to enjoy herself. He was even paying her neighbor to take care of her kids while she was gone overnight. Things would either work out with Haynes Enterprises or they wouldn’t. Contented, she drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  Loretta surveyed herself in the hotel room’s full-length mirror. She looked good in the Neiman Marcus charcoal suit Paul had bought her. Thank goodness it was still in style and she was able to squeeze into it after starving herself for the past week. She’d never be able to afford a suit like this again, she thought sadly. Still, she had it now. She picked up her purse and headed downstairs to meet the cab Mr. Haynes sent for her.

  Meanwhile, Frank Haynes was pacing in front of the window in his office, waiting for Loretta Nash to arrive. He knew he was pulling out all the stops to impress her. Airfare, hotel, a babysitter—all for a simple bookkeeping job? Ridiculous. Didn’t she see that? Was she that naïve? he wondered. Or would she sense that his interest in her wasn’t purely professional and drive a hard bargain? On the other hand, it wasn’t easy to outsmart Frank Haynes, he reminded himself.

  He saw the cab turn into the driveway in front of his building and went out to meet her. It was time to turn on the charm. Haynes stepped off the cur
b to introduce himself as she emerged from the backseat. He paid the driver and ushered her into the suite occupied by Haynes Enterprises.

  “Did you have a pleasant trip?” he asked, offering her a seat in his most solicitous fashion. “Hotel to your liking?”

  “Yes, everything was fine. Thank you.”

  “How do you like Westbury?” he pressed on, taking his place behind his desk.

  “I haven’t been here long enough to tell,” she responded. “It was dark when I arrived last night, and I came straight here this morning. All I can really tell is that it’s very green and pretty. That makes it a nice change from Arizona.”

  Haynes nodded knowingly. “Well, we’ll want you to see more of our beautiful town.” Thankfully, it was going to be a perfect day, with the fall colors just a day or two past their peak. He couldn’t have asked for better weather. “When we’re done here, I’ll show you the sights, if you’d like,” he offered, knowing he’d enjoy nothing less.

  She smiled at him coyly. “I’d really like that, Mr. Haynes.”

  A wave of revulsion swept through him. Good God, he thought. She’s coming on to me. She must assume she can put every man under her spell. Let her think that, but it’s not going to happen with me.

  “So,” Haynes continued, “I’ve reviewed your résumé and it’s very impressive. I run several fast-food franchises and we need a bookkeeper. We want someone with industry experience. You’ve got exactly what we’re looking for.”

  This is going too easy, Loretta realized. This guy isn’t flirting back, so he’s not looking for that … Maybe he’s gay? No. There’s something else.

  Even though she wanted this job, she decided to test the waters. “I thought you were looking for more than just a bookkeeper. I thought you wanted a financial analyst with industry experience. I’ve got a hotel/restaurant management degree; I can do a lot more for you than just bookkeeping.”

  Haynes snapped the pencil he was holding in half. Who in the hell did this little slut think she was? He opened his mouth to speak and thought better of it. He needed to compose himself. He forced a smile and held her gaze.

  She broke the uncomfortable silence. “I’ve got a family to support, Mr. Haynes. I was hoping for more,” she said.

  “Of course, of course,” he replied, believing that she was being sincere. “We pride ourselves on promoting from within here at Haynes Enterprises,” he lied. “I’m sure we can consider an expanded role after the probationary period.”

  He rose to his feet to forestall any further conversation on the subject. “Let me show you the office. Then we can do some sightseeing around town and have lunch before I drop you at the airport. You have a four o’clock flight, is that correct?”

  ***

  Haynes kept up a steady chatter on their drive around Westbury. It was clear he loved the town and knew every nook and cranny of it. As far as Loretta was concerned, it looked old, small, and not the least like beautiful Scottsdale, Arizona, where she lived—or, rather, used to live. Her current circumstances were much reduced, she reminded herself. If this guy wanted to pay her decent money to move her here, she would consider it. Still, she wasn’t wowed like she’d hoped to be.

  Sensing her low enthusiasm, Haynes pulled out his ace in the hole. “You mentioned Rosemont when we talked on the phone a while back. Would you like to drive by? It really is something to see.”

  Her head whipped up to face him, and he knew he’d hit his mark.

  “I’d forgotten all about Rosemont,” she said even though the house that Paul’s former wife lived in was never far from her thoughts. “If we can, I’d like that.”

  ***

  By the time they turned into the parking lot at The Mill for lunch, Haynes knew he had her. Loretta Nash tried to cover up her awe at seeing Rosemont, but he knew better. Thank God it was a weekday and Martin was at Town Hall. He’d driven up the driveway and stopped in front so she could get a good look. He almost felt sorry for Loretta. Whatever Paul Martin had told her about Rosemont, he obviously hadn’t characterized it as a gorgeous stone manor house. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to figure out what might be in this for her.

  After barely looking at the restaurant or its patrons, Loretta absentmindedly ordered a chicken Caesar salad without even opening the menu.

  “I want to offer you the job as financial analyst,” Haynes announced. If the title would entice her, what the hell did it matter to him?

  That caught her attention.

  “Your duties will focus primarily on the accounts, of course. But I’m sure you’ll be able to use your degree and experience. I’ll pay your moving expenses, and you’ll have a car allowance. Plus the usual medical and dental benefits.” He knew he was offering too much, but he wanted to seal the deal. He made sure her starting salary doubled her current income.

  To her credit, she didn’t pounce on his offer and accept immediately. Maybe she has some moxie after all, he mused.

  “This is a very good offer, Mr. Haynes. I need time to think about it,” she said, knowing that her decision had been made. “May I call you after I’ve had a chance to sleep on it?”

  “Certainly,” he said, suppressing his annoyance. “But don’t wait too long. We have other candidates.” He could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t believe him.

  Chapter 14

  The notice from the mayor’s office, copied and slipped under every resident’s door, caused quite a stir. Gloria called Glenn the minute she got it.

  “What does this mean?” she asked. “Increase in fees? I’ve got a five-year lease. How do they think they can just come in here and charge more? That’s what I want to know.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Glenn replied. “There must be something in the fine print of our leases that allows this. I’ve been trying to find my copy. Nancy kept all the files. I don’t know where she put it,” he said with a hint of frustration.

  “If they’re going to do this anyway, why have a meeting?” Gloria wondered.

  “They probably want buy-in from all of us residents. They’re afraid they’ll have a mutiny on their hands. Unless I miss my mark, we’re very good tenants. I’d be willing to bet that everybody here pays their rent on time.”

  “You know they do!” Gloria responded. “I’m going to that meeting, that’s for sure. I’ve read good things about both this new mayor and Councilwoman Holmes. I’m sure everything will be fine. But it’s hard not to worry.”

  “I agree. I’ll swing by your place tomorrow and we can walk over together.”

  Over the prior few weeks, one shared meal turned into many as Glenn and Gloria explored memories from their pasts and discussed current events and interests, both finding the allure of genuine friendship and compatibility irresistible. Gloria had worried about the gossipy locals branding them a couple, a concern she shared with Glenn since he might find the rumors hurtful as a recent widower. For his part, Glenn had never taken much stock in people’s opinions and was only uneasy about anything disrespectful of Gloria. In the end, the comfort they both took in their developing friendship had carried the day, and they had quickly become a daily fixture in each other’s lives.

  Gloria and Glenn arrived at the dining hall twenty-five minutes before the scheduled meeting with the mayor and Councilwoman Holmes. All the seats had been taken, and the maintenance crew was setting up folding chairs. Glenn ushered Gloria to the last available folding chair and took a spot along the sidelines.

  Mayor Martin and Councilwoman Holmes arrived right on time. The mayor stepped to the podium and addressed the residents of Fairview Terraces. “Thank you all for coming here this morning. My office has been swamped with calls and emails, and I’m sorry I haven’t responded. We felt it would be best to talk to everyone at once.” She scanned the anxious faces of the residents. Decent, hardworking people who had lived up to their obligations all of their lives and now wanted a peaceful retirement. Who could blame t
hem? Maggie swallowed hard and continued with her difficult message.

  “We haven’t come here to alarm you, but I can see that you’re concerned. Nothing I’m about to tell you will happen right away. But we have decisions to make.

  “Let me get to the point,” she continued. “Fairview Terraces is a nonprofit corporation, organized to own and run this facility. It subleases the real estate that your apartments are located on from Westbury’s pension fund. The fund holds the property as the tenant on a long-term ground lease. For years, the payments we received from Fairview Terraces—the sum of your rental payments—have been enough to make the payment on the ground lease.” She scanned the crowd and glanced at Tonya, who nodded encouragingly.

  “Several months ago, the lessor increased the rent under the ground lease and the pension fund has not been able to make the increased payment. In response, the lessor has filed a foreclosure action against the fund. I’ve called this meeting because the lessor will be posting foreclosure notices on the property tomorrow. I didn’t want anyone to see them without knowing what’s going on.” Maggie paused to let this sink in. She was greeted with a sea of puzzled faces.

  This is as dreadful as I thought it would be, she realized. “If the lessor forecloses, your leases may be terminated and you will be forced to move out.” This remark hit home, prompting a collective gasp from the audience. The residents turned to their neighbors in disbelief. Hands shot up all over the room.

  Maggie motioned for quiet, which quickly ensued in a room full of people who were by nature courteous and polite. “We believe that the ground lease provision regarding the increase is ambiguous. We’ve been in contact with the lessor and the pension fund is prepared to file suit if necessary. The foreclosure won’t go forward during the pendency of the suit. We’re also looking at ways to raise the money, both for the arrearage and on an ongoing basis if the increase is valid.”

  “Won’t you look to us for the extra money?” someone in the back asked. “Aren’t we the only ones with a vested interest in this place?”