Chapter 7: What Negotiation Looks Like
Julian's attorney was a man named Pryce — mid-fifties, a firm handshake in his voice even over the phone, the kind of lawyer who opened with warmth and pivoted to pressure inside the first two minutes.
Diane had patched me into the call.
I listened more than I spoke.
"My client acknowledges that the communication between the parties could have been clearer," Pryce began.
"He's prepared to discuss a repayment arrangement that works for everyone involved."
"Define arrangement," Diane said.
"A structured schedule.
Twelve monthly installments.
Beginning sixty days from today."
"The full $110,000?"
"My client is prepared to commit to $80,000.
Given that some of the expenditures were mutual family decisions—"
"They weren't," I said.
A pause.
"I'm sorry?"
"None of the expenditures were mutual family decisions.
Every contract was signed by me alone.
Every payment came from my accounts alone.
There were no mutual decisions."
"Your brother's position is that the wedding was a shared family event—"
"My brother's position in the family group chat, yesterday morning, was that I was not invited.
Those two positions are difficult to hold simultaneously."
Silence on the line.
Diane stepped in.
"We're not negotiating the principal amount.
$110,000, documented and recoverable.
What we're open to discussing is timeline."
"Sixty days is not a realistic start date for my client."
"Ninety days," Diane said.
"With a signed acknowledgment of the debt and a personal guarantee.
Not a payment plan letter.
A signed legal document."
Another pause.
"I'll need to consult with my client."
"Of course.
We'll need an answer by five o'clock today.
After that, we proceed with formal filing."
The call ended.
Diane came off mute.
"He'll come back before five.
Julian doesn't want this in a courthouse."
"Why not?
His attorney seems confident."
"His attorney is performing confidence.
Julian has no case.
He knows it.
The audio alone would be damaging in front of a judge, and the paper trail is clean." She paused.
"How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine."
"You keep saying that."
"I keep meaning it."
She made a small sound that wasn't quite a laugh.
"Pryce will call back by three.
I'd put money on it."
She was right.
He called at two-forty-seven.
The signed acknowledgment was agreed to.
Full amount.
Ninety days to first payment.
Monthly installments over eighteen months after that.
"Julian wants one thing in return," Pryce said.
"What?"
"That you don't pursue the audio recording through any other channel.
No civil fraud claim.
No sharing the recording with third parties."
I thought about Chloe's voice.
*That's the whole point of him.*
"The recording stays with my attorney as documentation," I said.
"I won't share it publicly.
But if Julian defaults on a single payment, that agreement is void."
"Understood."
"And I want it in writing.
That clause specifically."
"We can do that."
After the call, I sat in Diane's office — I had moved there from the coffee shop at noon — and watched her draft the agreement on her screen.
"This is a good outcome," she said without looking up.
"I know."
"You could have pushed for the fraud claim.
You had grounds."
"I know that too."
She glanced at me over her glasses.
"So why didn't you?"
I thought about my father's hands flat on the table.
The way his shoulders looked through the coffee shop window as he walked away.
"Because I want the money back," I said.
"I don't want to spend the next two years in a courtroom watching my family fall apart in front of a judge."
"That's reasonable."
"It's also not forgiveness," I said.
"I want to be clear about that."
Diane nodded.
"Noted."
The document was ready by four.
Julian's electronic signature appeared at four-fifty-one.
I stared at his name on the screen for a moment.
Then Diane said, "There's one more thing."
I looked up.
"Marcus called my office at two.
Not Pryce — Marcus himself." She set her pen down.
"He said he wants to meet with you.
Alone.
Without attorneys."
"Why?"
"He wouldn't say.
May you like
But he said—" she picked up a notepad "—he said, 'Tell him I know something about the trust fund that Julian doesn't know.
Tell him it's worse than he thinks.'"
