Cassie's Cowboy. Diane Pershing
I can’t see that we’ll be able to make any accommodation. After all, you signed a contract for a line of credit—”
“No, my late husband did that, as I’ve explained, without my knowing it.”
That smug smile again, a dismissive wave of his hand. “Yes, well it’s the same thing, isn’t it. Believe me, we’d rather not take back the house, it’s not worth a lot to us, but rules are rules.”
Charlie had about had enough of this man’s bullying. “When’s this money due?”
“Last month’s was due six days ago, but is officially overdue on Friday. That’s three days from now. If we don’t have that payment plus the current one, plus a late penalty payment by—” he consulted a desk calendar “—next Tuesday, that’s after the Fourth of July holiday, well, I’m afraid we’ll be discussing foreclosure proceedings.”
Charlie began to speak, but Cassie tugged at his hand again. “I understand,” she said.
That old familiar sense of shame washed over Cassie. Oh, how she hated being in debt, hated owing anyone for anything. Her life with Teddy had been all about keeping one step ahead of creditors, and she was sick to death of it.
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