A Threatened Lawsuit Arrived While My Payment Date Ran Out

At five twelve, Imani received a draft complaint asking for $1,200,000.

Preston's lawyer claimed I had disrupted the sale on purpose. The draft called my debt demand false and said I had harmed the value of the business.

No court stamp appeared on it. No case number.

"Has he sued me?" I asked.

"This is a threat to sue. We'll answer it with the records."

"Would I have to spend everything collecting what's already mine?"

She took a moment before answering.

"Enforcement costs money. Your agreement allows reasonable fees. Recovering them still takes work. I'll give you the bill as we go. No surprises."

Her honesty steadied me more than a promise would have.

She sent a short reply. It attached the note, the extension, and Preston's email saying he would handle my signoff. She asked what specific statement of mine was false.

No answer came that day.

I asked whether we should send the draft to every customer Preston had mentioned.

"What would that do for your note?" Imani asked.

I looked at the list. Good shops. People I had known for years.

"Nothing," I said.

She put the draft back in its folder.

I wanted someone else to feel as shaken as I did. Saying that out loud took some of its pull away. I kept the customer list out of my hands.

Over the weekend, I cleared the small workbench in our garage. I found a length of rope I had saved to teach new hires about internal wear. Its cover looked fine. Beneath it, the core had gone powdery from grit.

Ellen stood in the doorway.

"Are you working or worrying?"

"A little of both."

She brought two mugs out and sat on the old stool.

I passed the sample to her. She felt the stiff patch, then handed it back.

"You always said a pretty cover wasn't a test."

"I should put that on an invoice."

It was the first time I had laughed since Tuesday.

On Monday, Mara asked Imani whether I would allow her engineers to check the secured equipment. I agreed. Ownership still belonged to Twelve Strand. My lien did not give me the right to stop a useful inspection.

The company approved my visit as a paid outside consultant for four hours. Neal put the terms in writing. Imani checked that the fee could not be treated as a payment on the note.

At the shop, Deena met me by the bay.

"Your coffee mug is still upstairs," she said.

"Leave it there for now."

We worked through the three rigs with Mara's lead engineer. I showed him the emergency stop circuit, the calibration records, and the limits on the smaller bed.

"You could have made this difficult," he said.

"I want you to know what you're buying."

The long bed passed its checks. So did the other two rigs. Nothing in the debt dispute changed a load cell reading.

Before I left, Mara asked about the red-tagged sling.

"The customer sent a replacement," Deena said. "They thanked Joon for finding the damage."

Mara looked at me.

"I'd like a copy of that report."

I told her the company could provide it.

Wednesday was September thirtieth. I pressed a shirt even though I had nowhere to wear it.

By then, Neal had confirmed that the company had only $64,000 available in its operating account. Payroll and payroll taxes would take $41,000. The directors had asked Preston to fund the payoff. He had refused.

I did not ask the workers to wait for their wages so I could collect mine.

Imani sent a final reminder that morning. The note's due date stood on its own, even though the sale had stalled.

At six, there was no payment. At midnight, there was still none.

Thursday morning, Imani filed suit against Twelve Strand in Cabell County Circuit Court to collect the debt and enforce the security agreement. She also asked for an order keeping the three rigs in place while the case moved forward.

The request did not ask anyone to shut down testing. It asked the company not to sell, move, or damage the equipment without notice and permission.

"Will the filing stop Preston?" I asked.

"The filing starts a case. A judge decides what orders to enter."

She showed me the canceled moving order and the photograph Luis had sent. We would need facts for the request, not just my fear.

That afternoon, a hearing notice arrived. Tuesday morning. I wrote the date on our kitchen calendar.

Ellen drew a small square around it.

"I'll drive," she said.

I laid out my blue shirt and put the cotton spool beside its buttons.

Then Imani called again.

"The accountant has finished tracing the altered sheet," she said. "There's a second attachment you need to see before court."