Best Laid Plans (Garnet Run 2)

Charlie swallowed a lump in his throat. There was something intimate about watching Rye braid his hair. He could imagine Rye’s hands were his own, twining the soft, riotous strands together.

“Better?” he asked.

It didn’t have the professional effect Charlie’d hoped at all—instead, it made him look younger—but at least with his hair out of his face Rye couldn’t fiddle with it or hide behind it, two things he tended to do when it was down.

“Maybe you think a French braid would look more financially solvent?” Rye said, smirking fully now.

“Ha-ha.”

“No, really,” Rye continued as he pulled his coat on. “I could do Heidi braids. Or Princess Leia buns. You know, if you think that the associations might hoodwink a loan officer into giving me more money?”

“Get your financially insolvent ass in the truck,” Charlie grumbled, but that didn’t stop him from picturing Rye with two braids and with buns in his pretty hair.

They walked into the Garnet Run Community Federal Credit Union, and Charlie waved to Mike Brant and Felicity Martens. He introduced Rye to them both and Mike led them to his desk.

“What can we do for you, Rye?” Mike said. “Or is it Ryan?”

“Nope, just Rye. Um.” He looked at Charlie. “I need a loan. Or...a mortgage?”

Mike looked at Charlie too.

“Well, it would help to know which...” Mike said.

Rye leaned forward, elbows on Mike’s desk like he was about to tell a story.

“Okay, so, here’s the deal,” Rye said, and Charlie braced himself.

Chapter Eleven

Rye

“My grandfather died and left me his house for some reason—no idea why. Only, it’s falling down. So I need to rebuild it. But I don’t have any money. And Charlie said maybe you guys could give me a loan to buy all the materials for the house. Or, no, buy the property and then pay me for the... Uh.”

Rye looked at Charlie, begging him to jump in because the particulars of what he’d said—foggy even as he was saying them—had now fled his mind completely.

Charlie bit his lip and Rye got the sense that he’d said things all wrong.

“He owns the home and the property free and clear, Mike. So I mentioned a loan for the cost of rebuilding. Or perhaps a mortgage against the property that would provide for the rebuilding costs. But I knew you’d be able to tell us what the best option was.”

Rye thought Charlie was laying it on a bit thick, but he clearly knew what he was talking about because this Mike person nodded and stroked the bridge of his nose thoughtfully.

“Let’s take a look at what we’re working with,” he said.

Thus began a process of looking up Rye’s credit that he knew was likely to end in disaster. When a screen loaded on Mike’s computer, he visibly flinched, shot a glance at Rye, and grimaced.

“Not much here,” he said.

“Yeah.” Rye squirmed. “But with a house isn’t it... I mean, it’s not like I can walk away with it, ya know?”

Mike gave a contrived chuckle and said, “Ha, good one.” But Rye hadn’t been joking.

Mike asked question after question about his credit, his employment history, his rental history, and any hope that Charlie had managed to foment died a crushing death.

“He has a job now,” Charlie said. “He’s working at the store, starting this week.”

Charlie nudged Rye’s foot with his own, as if Rye didn’t have a lifetime of experience lying about his financial status to find ways to live.

Mike nodded like that helped and tapped away on his computer.

“Wait, we’re talking about Granger Janssen’s property?” Mike said.

“Yeah, he was my grandfather.”

Mike nodded, thoughtfully chewing on a pen that was branded with the bank’s name.

“Granger Janssen was a longtime member of the credit union,” he mused. “It would be nice to continue that into the next generation.”

Rye might not have known anything about loans or mortgages, but he knew when to shut up and let people talk themselves into things.

Mike rambled on about value versus equity, refinancing, appraisal, and length of mortgage repayment. Rye tried to commit what he was saying to memory to look up later, but it all turned to mush in his head and his mind started to wander to questions he was familiar with—like how in the fuck any of this could possibly work.

He snapped back to attention when Charlie turned to look at him and he realized Mike was looked at him expectantly too.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said that we can do the loan, but because of your credit, you’d need someone to cosign.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that someone else with better credit would need to enter into the agreement with you and vouch for your repayment.”

“And I said I can do it.”

Charlie.

“Wait, what?”

“I can cosign with you.”

“No. No way,” Rye said immediately. “I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much. Too much.”