Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

Chapter 73 [Cordelia]

I called 15 banks and emailed at least a dozen more. By the end of the morning, I was exhausted.

At the end of three days, I had heard back from only one of them, an older bank with a solid reputation. In their message, they said the loan was as good as mine, all I needed to do was come down and sign for it.

I called back and set up an appointment to meet the very next day. They suggested I bring along any necessary documentation and proof of Intention for this loan, to save me the trouble later.

This is why I am standing outside the loan manager's office wearing my only suit with an elastic. waistband holding my portfolio and rocking back and forth on my heels.

"Mrs. Steele," the pretty blonde receptionist waves me into the main office. "Mr. Jones will be ready to meet with you in a few minutes."

I thank her as she leads me into a small but elegant office. Taking a seat in a small leather armchair across from his desk, I nod as the receptionist asks if I'd like something to drink..

I am just about to ask her for a glass of water when a tall man with a large mustache and a round belly

father opens the door behind me. He gives off a "boy's club" vibe that reminds me a bit of my father if my were to stop going to the gym.

Standing I shake his hand. "I'm so happy you could make the time to meet with me," I smile, trying to seem optimistic and cheerful. "About my loan..."

"Where is Mr. Steele?" he interrupts me as he looks around as if expecting Atlas to appear from under the desk.

"At work," I shrug, wondering what that has to do with anything. "But this isn't about Atlas. I'm here for myself. You see, my business..."

"Oh, my misunderstanding," he interrupts me again in that annoying way that men often do when they feel like what they have to say is more important than what anyone else might want to contribute. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying anything rude. "I thought this loan was for Steele Industries," he frowns. "We'll that's okay I'm fine giving a private loan to you Mrs. Steele, on behalf of your husband."

I laugh. "Oh, I'm not married. At least not anymore."

"But aren't you the wife of Atlas Steele?" He looks confused.

"Ex-wife," I keep my smile in place by sheer effort, each moment costing me another bit of my pride. "I'm Cordelia Greyson, Atlas Steele is my ex-husband. This is for my business, Cordelia Louise."

I begin opening my portfolio and he stops me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. "That won't be necessary, Miss. I just need to know one thing?"

"And that is," I raise an eyebrow.

"Will Mr. Steele be co-signing for you today?"

When I meet his gaze it is caring, paternal, like he's rooting for me to give the answer he wants so he can give me the money I so desperately need.

Unfortunately, I will have to disappoint him. "No, not today," I confess. "I didn't think I'd need him for this so I didn't ask," I sighed, my heart suddenly feeling very heavy. "When I talked to you on the phone you said this was a done deal."

I will not cry in front of this man. I can't.

Carefully, my head held high, I stand. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, sir."

Turning my back on him, I place a hand on the doorknob.

He coughs, "Mrs. Steele, wait."

I turn.

"I am prepared to give you this loan in the full amount you requested. I will even keep the paperwork right here," he taps a manila folder on his desk. "But you will need to have Atlas co-sign for you. I'm sorry, but the bank cannot take a risk on an unknown designer without some solid collateral. Unless," he smiles as he looks at the priceless comb in my hair, "You have something else you'd like to place as collateral.

I put a hand on the comb. Atlas' precious family heirloom. Gently I remove a bobby pin, loosening it from my hair. "This is all I have. I lost everything else in the fire."

I hand it to him gingerly. Other than my baby, it is the only thing I have left that Atlas has ever given me. I don't even have my wedding rings anymore. I sold them to help start my business.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

He takes it from my hands. Admiring it, he whistles slowly. "Do you have any idea how much this is worth?

"Atlas said it was priceless," I whisper, sad to see it slip through my fingers.

He takes one last look at me, then hands the comb back. "I think I wouldn't be able to sleep if I took this from you," he admits. "Please, just go talk to him. If he loved you once enough to give you that," he points to the comb. "Then he still loves you enough to sign for this loan."

Feeling defeated, I put the comb in my jacket pocket for safekeeping and walk out of the bank, willing myself not to cry.

Sniffling, I feel a small flutter of feet as I fold myself into my car. "I'll make it better, little one." I promise, rubbing my belly and humming until he settles.

I guess I have no choice.

I'll need to go see Atlas and ask him for help.