The Billionaire Bum

He looked at me with tears in his beautiful blue eyes. “I really don’t deserve you, Alissa.”

“How about I get to be the judge of that?”

He gave me a weak smile. “What can I do to help?”

“Make a Home Depot run?” I asked. “I’ll make you a list.” I got my grocery list paper from the kitchen and started making a plan. We would need new paint for the walls, a cleaner to get the paint off of the floor, probably new floor wax after that, lots of garbage bags, and a spare industrial broom would be good. It was a lot to think about. I settled on painting and cleaning first. I would think about the furniture later.

I was a little surprised that Jackson didn’t argue with me when I told him that I was going to do the work myself. I was sure that he would have hired a team of professionals if I had left it up to him. Maybe my words in the car had affected him or maybe he was just tired of making mistakes. Either way, I was glad that we didn’t have to argue over it. A little manual labor would feel good right about now.

The police finished processing the scene, and my dad convinced them to let me continue cleaning. I wanted to be back in business as soon as possible. Bad publicity like this could be really damaging for me. I wanted to be back up in two or three days if I could manage it.

I was pulling the police tape away from the door when Lexy showed up. She had an arm full of restaurant supply catalogs. She could be a pain in the ass, but I was so very lucky to have her.

Ten minutes later, Mr. Jennings, the owner of my insurance company arrived to appraise the damage. He made a slow circle around the place and then stopped to study the door. “Where did they break in?” he asked.

“The police think they had a key,” I answered.

“Oh,” he said. He finished his walk, and then sat down at the table beside me and filled out a form.

Jackson joined us a few minutes later carrying paint cans, rollers, brushes, and a whole pile of other supplies. My dad went out to help him bring it all in.

“Miss Allen?” Mr. Jennings said looking up from his form. “I regret to inform you that your damages will not be covered by your policy. Please sign here.” He pushed the form to me.

“What? I pay that policy every quarter right on time. I have insurance for this business.

Why wouldn’t it be covered?”

Jackson sat down beside me and looked at the form.

“There was no forced entry, Miss Allen. The policy only covers you in the event of vandalism to the outside of your business or for breaking and entering. We are not responsible if you do not lock your doors or use poor judgment with regards to keys.”

“What?” I asked again. “How am I supposed to replace everything if it isn’t covered?” I was shocked. My insurance policy was not cheap; how could they do this? I didn’t remember anything like that from when I had purchased it. I should be covered for this.

“That’s not my concern, Miss Allen,” he said, clearly dismissing me.

“May I?” Jackson asked, as he took the form from me. I nodded weakly.

Without that money, I couldn’t replace the tables and chairs. Decent chairs ran about $250 each. I needed at least sixty of them. I didn’t have $15,000. If I went to IKEA I could get some for less, but that would still cost about $3,500, and it would only be a temporary solution.

Restaurant furniture had to be really sturdy to accommodate the volume and variety of customers.

I still needed tables and tablecloths. I wasn’t going to be able to afford this. I was making money with my business, but I’d only been open a year. I had poured all of my savings into it just to open the first time. I didn’t have any start-up capital this time.

Insurance was supposed to take care of stuff like this. I was covered for flood, fire, theft over $1,500, and vandalism. I knew I was.

“I didn’t catch your name,” Jackson said, looking up at the insurance man.

“Jay Jennings. Now if you would just allow Miss Allen to sign the form...”

“Nowhere in this document, Mr. Jennings, does it state that forced entry is required for an act of vandalism to be covered.” The two men considered each other across the table.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Mr. Jennings asked rudely.

“Alissa is my girlfriend,” he answered. Girlfriend? I kind of liked the sound of that, and I couldn’t keep the smile from crossing my face despite the awful mess I was in. “My name is Jackson Hayes.”

Mr. Jennings paled and began sweating. “Mr. Hayes, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.” Oh God. Here we go.

“Please answer the question, Mr. Jennings. Where does it state that forced entry is required?”

“I’m sure we can work something out. I mean, Miss Allen is correct. She does pay her bill right on time every quarter. We can surely make an exception this one time.” I had never seen a man sweat quite so badly. Seriously? Jackson could do that with just his name? I wondered if he was a customer at the same insurance company.

“I don’t see the need for an exception. This policy states that these damages should be covered.”

“Of course, Mr. Hayes. We’ll have a check processed today.” Jackson looked at me and then looked back at Mr. Jennings. Jackson looked extremely pissed off. I didn’t know what to do. I needed that insurance money, but I didn’t want it to be because Jackson was involved. I just wanted what was rightfully mine according to my policy. I wasn’t trying to commit fraud, but this is why I had insurance in the first place.

“Jackson, I just...”

“Were you just going to take advantage of her?” Jackson sneered. He was leaning over the table now.

“Of course not, Mr. Hayes.”

“Then what exactly were you going to do? Why would you tell her that this wasn’t covered when it clearly is?”

“It was just a misunderstanding. I’m sure...”

Jackson turned back to me.

“How much money do you think you need? If you were to replace everything that was damaged, all the tables and chairs, new linens, new door locks, new curtains and blinds for the windows, and whatever else I might be missing? A realistic estimate please, not a conservative one.”

I thought for a minute and scribbled a quick list using the prices in the catalog that Lexy and I had been studying. “Um, the tables and chairs are the worst of it,” I said, “About $25,000, plus the other stuff. I would say it was $35,000 to $40,000 worth of damage, I guess.”

“Alissa, I’m sorry,” Jackson said. “I can’t stand for this. I know I told you that I would let you manage your own stuff, and I swear to you, I am not trying to interfere, but this is just wrong. I can’t allow him to take advantage of you like this.”

“Mr. Hayes, I can assure you that we can resolve this, if the lady thinks that $35,000 is reasonable we will give her $40,000 just to be on the safe side. I’ll even agree to freezing her rates for the next year so she won’t see an increase...”

“Shut up,” Jackson almost growled at him. “Is this how you treat all of your small business owners? I have half a mind to pull all of my policies with your company as it is. Don’t make it worse.”

The man shut up.

“Alissa, are you sure you won’t let me help you? We could just forget this whole insurance mess. I’ll give you the money and make them refund your insurance premiums for the last year. You can find a new company. You don’t have to put up with this shit.”

“I just want what is rightfully mine in my policy, Jackson,” I said. “If it says that it should be covered, then I want them to pay me what they are supposed to pay me. I don’t want your money, and I don’t want theirs either if that’s not what I’m covered for. I just want what they agreed to pay me when I bought the policy.”

Jackson’s forehead wrinkled in the most adorable way, and I fought off the desire to kiss it. “I want to see your appraisal guides,” Jackson said to Mr. Jennings.

“Of course, sir, but they are at my office, I’ll have to run and retrieve them.”

“You came to do an assessment without any kind of documentation? What did you plan to do, just eyeball it, or were you really planning on screwing her out of everything before you even got here?”

“Mr. Hayes I can assure you...”

“Never mind. I trust Alissa’s estimate over yours anyway. I should call my lawyer, but I know she wants this to be resolved quickly. According to her policy right here,” he jabbed his finger at one of the papers, “you are to pay eighty-five percent of the total damages minus her $1,000 deductible, which you are going to waive just because you’ve pissed me off. We’re working with a $45,000 figure, because I think she’s underestimating, so that makes it $38,250.

I’ll expect a check for that amount within the next hour.” Mr. Jennings swallowed hard. “Of course, sir.”