Chapter 3: Four Hundred Thousand
The number was printed in bold.
*$400,000.00*
I stared at it.
Then I looked at my father.
“What is this?””
Curtis leaned back as though we were discussing a routine family expense.
“An investment.””
My mother shifted beside him.
“Maya, please sit down.””
“I’m fine standing.””
Curtis chuckled.
“Still stubborn.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“You came to my office asking for four hundred thousand dollars.””
“Not asking.””
He tapped the document.
“Proposing.””
I looked at the first page.
It was a funding request for Bennett Construction.
My father’s company.
The company I had supposedly been too selfish to abandon at seventeen.
The company I had been told would collapse without me.
The company I had left behind.
“You need four hundred thousand?””
Curtis nodded.
“Expansion capital.””
“Why?””
“We landed a major commercial contract.””
“Congratulations.””
His smile widened.
“But the bank won’t cover the full amount.””
“So you came to me.””
“Family helps family.””
I laughed once.
It wasn’t funny.
“Family?””
My mother looked uncomfortable.
“Maya…”
“No. I want to understand.””
I pointed toward the document.
“You threw me out.””
Curtis waved his hand.
“That was years ago.””
“You told me I was nothing without you.””
“You were seventeen.””
“You said I was wasting your money.””
“You were being disrespectful.””
“You watched me leave.””
He sighed.
“Are we really going to relive all that?””
I looked at him.
“You came into my office.””
His expression changed.
“We came because you’re successful.””
There it was.
The truth.
Not apology.
Not regret.
Success.
I pulled the chair out but didn’t sit.
“How did you find out how much my company is worth?””
Curtis smiled.
“You’re in the news.””
“Of course.””
“You’ve done very well.””
“So have you, apparently.””
His smile disappeared.
“Things have been difficult.””
I flipped through the pages.
The numbers didn’t make sense.
“Your revenue dropped.””
“Temporarily.””
“Your liabilities doubled.””
“Expansion costs.””
“You have three overdue supplier accounts.””
My mother looked at me.
“How did you see that so quickly?””
“Because I read financial statements.””
Curtis’s cheeks reddened.
He snatched the document.
“That’s why we need you.””
I stared at him.
“No.””
He blinked.
“What?””
“No.””
“You haven’t even heard the proposal.””
“I heard enough.””
My mother leaned forward.
“Maya, your father is offering you equity.””
“In exchange for four hundred thousand dollars.””
“Yes.””
“How much equity?””
Curtis looked away.
“Twenty percent.””
I almost smiled.
“You want me to value your company at two million dollars?””
“That’s fair.””
“No.””
“It’s worth more than that.””
“Then why are you offering twenty percent for four hundred thousand?””
Silence.
My father’s fingers tightened around the paper.
“Because you’re family.””
“That’s not an answer.””
He stood.
“Maya, I built that company from nothing.””
“And you told me I was nothing.””
He stared at me.
My mother whispered, “Please.””
I sat down.
“Tell me what happened.””
Curtis didn’t answer.
I looked at Denise.
“What happened?””
She swallowed.
“We had a difficult year.””
“How difficult?””
She looked at Curtis.
He said nothing.
“Mom.””
She finally whispered, “The contract fell through.””
“What contract?””
“The hospital project.””
“How much did you lose?””
She looked down.
“About two hundred thousand.””
“And the rest?””
Curtis stepped in.
“Old debt.””
I leaned back.
“How old?””
He didn’t answer.
“Dad.””
He sighed.
“Some of it is from the year after you left.””
Something clicked.
“Then why are you asking me now?””
He looked at me.
“Because you have the money now.””
The room went silent.
My assistant was outside the glass wall.
Employees were walking past.
People who knew me as a founder.
A boss.
A woman who had built something.
None of them knew that the man standing in front of me was the same man who had once thrown her belongings onto a porch.
Curtis picked up his briefcase.
“You should think about it.””
“I don’t need to.””
He smiled.
“You always were impulsive.””
My mother stood.
“Maya, please call us tonight.””
“I won’t.””
Her face fell.
Curtis walked toward the door.
Then he stopped.
“You know what your problem is?””
I said nothing.
“You think success changes where you came from.””
He turned.
“It doesn’t.””
I looked directly at him.
“No.””
He waited.
“It just means I finally understand where I came from.””
His expression hardened.
They left.
I stayed in my chair.
My hands were shaking.
My assistant knocked softly.
“Do you want me to cancel your next meeting?””
“No.””
She stepped inside.
“You okay?””
I looked at the document on my desk.
“No.””
She waited.
Then I said, “But I will be.””
That evening, I drove to Lorraine’s house.
The blue shutters were still blue.
The rose bushes had grown taller.
She opened the door before I knocked twice.
“You look angry.””
“My parents came.””
Lorraine’s expression changed.
“What do they want?””
“Four hundred thousand dollars.””
She closed her eyes.
“Of course.””
I froze.
“What do you mean, ‘of course’?””
She turned away.
I followed her into the kitchen.
“You knew?””
“I suspected.””
“You knew they would come for money?””
“Not the amount.””
“But you expected them to come.””
Lorraine sat down.
“Maya, successful people sometimes discover that old relationships have financial memories.””
“That doesn’t make sense.””
“It will.””
I dropped the proposal onto the table.
“They offered twenty percent.””
Lorraine didn’t touch it.
“Did you read the attached agreements?””
“Yes.””
“All of them?””
“Yes.””
“Are you sure?””
I frowned.
“Yes.””
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she reached into a drawer.
She pulled out another folder.
The same kind she had given me nine years earlier.
Except this one was thicker.
Much thicker.
She placed it beside my father’s proposal.
“You need to see this.””
I opened it.
There were corporate records.
Property transfers.
Old correspondence.
Copies of contracts.
And a letter from Samuel Hart.
I read the first page.
Then I looked up.
“Why do you have records about my father?””
Lorraine’s voice was quiet.
“Because I started investigating him before you went to college.””
“Why?””
She pointed at one page.
“Because I knew something about your family that you didn’t.””
My heart began beating faster.
“What?””
She pushed the page toward me.
At the bottom was a signature.
Curtis Bennett.
But the document was dated eight years before I was born.
I stared at it.
“What is this?””
Lorraine said nothing.
I read the heading.
Then I read it again.
It was a property agreement.
A transfer.
And the beneficiary wasn’t Curtis.
It was me.
My name appeared in the document.
*Maya Bennett.*
I looked up sharply.
“Lorraine.””
She reached across the table.
“There’s more.””
“What more?””
She turned the page.
A second signature appeared.
Not my father’s.
Not my mother’s.
May you like
Someone else’s.
And the name belonged to the man who had originally founded the company Curtis now claimed he had built from nothing.
