They Gave Me a Monthly Allowance, So I Took Back My Building novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Orange Juice

Her aunt tells her to think of Donata's feelings while Ruggero takes her card, her car and her office; the lawyer reports the aunt's signature has been used on her house too.

My aunt called back at seven the next morning, while I sat alone in my office on the top floor of headquarters.

Finance had sent me nothing. Not one statement.

Aunt Agnese appeared on my laptop, sitting on the porch of her farmhouse with a wool shawl around her shoulders. The vines behind her had just put out new leaves.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Coffee."

"Coffee isn't breakfast, Caterina."

She had raised me after my father died.

She had held the family together for years.

Then her heart made her step back, and Donata took over the daily running of the wineries.

I turned the draft to the last page and held it up to the camera.

"Aunt Agnese, did you sign this yesterday?"

She squinted. For a moment she looked away from the screen.

"Donata brought me some papers. I didn't read every word. She said it was only a formality so you wouldn't have to be bothered."

"It gives away my shares and replaces my dividends with an allowance."

"It gives some of them to the people who work for us," she said. "They've earned something, dear."

"It doesn't say who or how much. Nobody will tell me."

My aunt sighed and picked up her cup.

"Donata will see that you're comfortable."

She set the cup down on the saucer.

"She's managed things for twelve years without a single scandal. She just married, and Ruggero wants to help."

"I asked a question."

"How do you think she felt when you made them look foolish in front of everyone?"

"They asked me to sign something I hadn't seen. I asked who it was for."

"Then ask her at home, privately. Why are you bringing in lawyers?"

She waved a hand at the vines.

"Your father kept family business inside the family. Think what people will say."

She went on about Donata's feelings and the other families' opinions.

She never once asked what I wanted.

"I'm having a lawyer read it," I said. "I won't sign. Please don't tell them that I will."

She didn't answer.

"Eat something," I said, and ended the call.

I was still looking at the dark screen when the office door opened.

Ruggero walked in without knocking. He held a glass of orange juice.

"I had the kitchen squeeze this for you." He set it down on top of the draft. "Did you speak to Agnese? She understands what's good for this family."

I moved the glass off my papers.

"Where are the financial statements?"

"Finance works on its own schedule. The company doesn't stop because you've suddenly become interested in numbers."

He sat across from me and laid a typed sheet on the desk.

"Since we're treating this as business, let's look at costs. This office sits empty most of the year."

He tapped the first line.

"Starting tomorrow, it becomes a reception room for buyers."

He tapped the next line.

"Your car and driver are a company expense. They end today. So does this."

He reached over and took the black card from the holder on my desk.

"The company has no obligation to pay for your lifestyle forever."

I took the holder and put it in my bag.

"I refused to sign yesterday. Today it's all urgent?"

He slid the card into his folder.

"If you reconsider the agreement, we can reconsider these arrangements."

"Does Donata know?"

He turned the sheet and pointed to the bottom corner. Her signature was there, in the round blue handwriting I had seen on birthday cards for years.

Yesterday she'd told me I wouldn't lose out. This morning she had signed off on taking my card.

"I'll keep this," I said, and folded the sheet.

"I still want the statements. You can take my office, but not my right to read my own company's books."

Ruggero stood and buttoned his jacket.

"If you want a desk, apply for one in the staff area. Regular hours."

He picked up his folder.

"Anyone absent for months is counted as an unauthorized absence."

As he came around the desk, he reached for my shoulder to straighten my collar.

I stepped back.

"Don't touch me."

His hand stopped in the air. After a second he lowered it.

"Your father's papers don't find buyers or pay wages," he said. "Donata does. The sooner you accept that, the easier this gets."

At the door he looked back.

"Leave your things. The cleaners will box them."

"I'll box them myself. Tell everyone not to touch them."

He left.

I took my father's field journal out of the drawer and put it in my bag next to the card holder.

Then I sent the draft, the cost sheet, and a photograph of Donata's signature to my lawyer.

I asked her one more thing: to find every document my aunt had ever signed for me under her power of attorney.

Her reply came before I reached the elevator.

It was one line.

"Four documents since January, and one of them was signed yesterday. Call me. It's about your house."

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