The drive to Mr. Jacobs’ office felt longer than usual, my mind racing with possibilities. When I arrived, he ushered me into his office, a cluttered space filled with books and papers. His desk was a testament to years of legal battles and negotiations.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” he said, gesturing for me to sit. He looked tired, as if he’d been up all night reviewing the contract.

I settled into the chair, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. “What did you find?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Mr. Jacobs sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. “There are a few things that concern me. First, there’s no exit clause. If this investment goes south, you’ll be stuck with it.”

“And the financials?” I asked, leaning forward.

“They’re optimistic, to say the least. I’d be cautious about relying on them,” he replied, his voice measured. “I recommend negotiating some amendments before you sign anything.”

I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. “But David’s already signed,” I pointed out, my voice edged with worry.

“That complicates things,” Mr. Jacobs admitted. “But it’s not insurmountable. We can work on it.”

We spent the next hour discussing potential changes, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and concerns. As I left his office, I felt a renewed sense of determination. This wasn’t over yet.

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