It’s my turn to snigger, but that stops when I pull out the check.
“It’s sorted.”
I glance up. Ben nods, and my jaw goes slack.
£1,000,000.
“How did you?”
It’s then that I clock the name on the bottom. Chase, Chase, and Waite Law. I’ve heard of them. Two brothers and their best friend, who own a law firm in Canary Wharf. Expensive suits. Expensive problems. They’re known for their high-profile clients. Successful for sure. Not men I’d voluntarily align Opengate with.
“What’s the catch?” I continue when he doesn’t answer my question.
“There isn’t one,” he says. “Harrison Waite handed it to me himself. No payback required.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because I saved his wife.”
My jaw snaps closed. I wasn’t expecting that. I look from the check to Ben and back again.
“I told you before… sometimes people remember.” He says it like it’s obvious. Like that’s the end of the story. “We did it, Antonia. June will happen.”
Relief threatens, but it seems too easy to succumb to it. Nothing is fixed until proven. Until we’re open. “As long as nothing else goes wrong…”
He shakes his head. “We’re allowed to win one, Antonia.”
I’m not sure if I’m peeved or in awe—possibly both.
“I’ll get it banked tomorrow,” I say, sliding the check into my top drawer, then locking it. “Thank you.”
I should feel triumphant; instead, displacement settles in my stomach. Wrong, but there. It should have been me fixing this. I made the call that caused the problem. He approached me for funding. And here he is raising the required money without my input.
“You’re welcome. So, are you going to open that?”
Now, we both look at the bag. Inside, there’s a box with an emblem on the lid, but I can’t make out what it is through the plastic.
“What is it?”
“Open it, and you’ll find out.”
I exhale, unsettled that he’s brought me something I wasn’t expecting, and not sure of the purpose of this visit. The funding could’ve been communicated via email. The check delivered ona working day. I’m lifting the box out of the bag when my computer pings with a new email from my lawyer.
“Longdown’s solicitor escalated the case,” I say, tapping at my keyboard. My attention immediately taken by the screen. “They’re out for blood.”
“What does your lawyer say?” he asks.
“I’m about to find out.”
I open the email. Everything comes into focus a little more.
No actionable evidence of misconduct.
“Good news?” Ben prompts.
“How did you know?”
My eyes slide to his as he cocks his head to one side.