Selma made a face, but didn't argue. "What other option do you have?"
Hannah sucked in a breath. She had only one other option--and it was a little dicey. Worth it, but dicey.
"What?" Selma prodded. "You're thinking about something. Just spit it out."
"Right. Okay. Here's the thing. This isn't a new idea between Easton and me--the partnership, I mean. I first suggested it years ago, not long after I signed on at Brandywine and realized the work wasn't for me." She rolled her eyes. "I always told everyone I loved it, but the truth was ... well, not so much."
"You're saying you had the money then, but not now. So this was before you bought your condo?"
Hannah shook her head. "No, I already had the condo, and I had my equity loan. But back then, my parents were willing to fund me if I went out on my own."
"Were willing," Selma repeated. "But they're not now?"
"Pretty much." She drained the last of her Loaded Corona, then signaled to Eric, the bartender, to make her another. She loved the simple drink--a bottle of Corona with the neck poured off and filled with rum, then topped with a slice of lime--but right now it wasn't about taste. If she was going to talk about her mother and Ernest, she wanted the fortification of a good, old-fashioned buzz.
Across the table, Selma was sitting patiently, but Hannah could see the questions brewing in her eyes. Time to dive in. And why not? Maybe Selma would have a solution.
"Did Easton ever tell you about my dad?"
Selma's brow furrowed; clearly that wasn't the lead-in to the conversation that she'd expected. "I don't think so."
"He died when I was little. Just a toddler, really. He was a cop, and he was killed in the line of duty. It was--well, it was rough. Especially for my mom. Honestly, I don't remember my dad all that well, but my mom really had to scramble. She'd been a housewife, and after he passed, money was really tight. She'd dropped out of school, but she went back, got her degree, and ended up working as a teacher. She was determined to pay my way through college."
"Good for her."
"I know. She was amazing. But money was still tight, and she always told me to be smart. To pick a career where I could make money and always support myself. And she put aside fifty grand of the money from one of my dad's life insurance policies in a savings account. She told me that he'd gotten the policy with me in mind, and she said that she would give the money to me when I was settled with a good job and a solid career, but needed a little extra cash to help me get even farther."
Selma leaned back, her head tilted slightly with obvious confusion.
"Yeah," Hannah said. "I know."
"Then why? Why are we even having this conversation? You're each putting fifty into the business, right? If you have fifty just sitting in the bank..."
Hannah took a second to let the familiar bubble of anger settle. "That would be because of Ernest."
"Who's Ernest?"
"My stepfather. Once he came on the scene, my mom changed her tune. It wasn't the business that mattered, it was my life. She told me that it was still my money, but my father wouldn't have wanted me to fritter my life away working--"
"Fritter?"
"That's what she said. And so much more. Bottom line is that I get the money when I'm in a stable relationship. Then, according to my mom, I'll be using it to support my domestic life, even if I decide to put it into my business."
"Wow. Why? Where did that come from?"
Hannah shrugged. She had her theories, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was figuring out a way to get the money.
"So basically, we need to hook you up with someone suitable."
"Who knows? I actually asked for the money about four years ago. I wanted to use it to buy a condo. One that didn't need all the work mine did. And back then, I was in a relationship."
"And she said no?"
"Apparently, she and Ernest didn't like the fact that my partner's name was Janet. But honestly, even if Janet had been a Jack, maybe there would have been some other excuse. I'm probably stupid to think that I'll ever get that money, and it's so frustrating, because I know that Daddy got that second policy so that I'd be taken care of. But he put it in Mom's name, and now I'm screwed."
"Well, you're not with Janet anymore. Maybe your parents could tell it wasn't a permanent thing."
Tiffany, one of the servers, dropped off the fresh Loaded Corona along with a basket of Pretzel Bites with Beer Cheese Dip. "On the house. Eric said you two look like you're doing serious work and needed fuel."