Chương 8
“I never meant to remove you from the company,” he said.
Catherine had not mentioned the documents.
“Amber sent them.”
He looked toward the elevator.
“She sent everything,” Catherine said.
“She created drafts I did not approve.”
“Your messages are attached.”
“I was preparing for a medical emergency.”
“You described me as erratic.”
“You were under pressure.”
“So were you. No one drafted a resolution questioning your competence.”
Michael rubbed the back of his neck. “The Meridian financing was close to collapse. Nolan was worried you would delay the vote.”
“I opposed the terms.”
“You opposed every compromise.”
“The lender wanted personal guarantees against assets my father funded.”
“We needed liquidity.”
“You needed control.”
He exhaled slowly. “This is exactly what I mean.”
“What?”
“You turn every disagreement into proof that someone is betraying you.”
The cruelty of it was subtle because it contained a fragment of truth. Catherine had distrusted investors, consultants, and employees who challenged her design authority. She had treated compromise as dilution. Michael had spent years translating her certainty into deals other people could accept.
But he had also slept with his assistant and prepared to weaken her board power.
“Leave,” Catherine said.
“Catherine.”
“You have learned to hide inside my flaws.”
His expression shifted.
She opened the door. “They are real. They are still not permission.”
Amber agreed to meet at Priya’s office on a Tuesday afternoon.
Catherine arrived with Sophie asleep in a carrier against her chest. Priya had suggested leaving the baby with Rebecca, but Catherine refused. Some part of her wanted Amber to see the child as a person rather than evidence of Michael’s inconvenient domestic life.
Amber was already seated in the conference room.
Without the evening dress, gold watch, and black heels, she looked younger. She wore a gray sweater and dark trousers. Her blonde hair was tied back carelessly. There were shadows beneath her eyes.
She stood when Catherine entered.
“Please don’t,” Catherine said.
Amber sat.
Priya placed a recorder on the table after obtaining everyone’s consent. “This conversation is confidential unless otherwise agreed. Ms. Collins is represented by employment counsel, who is participating remotely.”
A man’s voice came through the speakerphone and confirmed.
Catherine lowered herself into a chair. The baby shifted against her.
Amber looked at Sophie once, then kept her eyes on the table.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Catherine waited.
Amber swallowed. “I know that doesn’t help.”
“No.”
“I believed you and Michael had been separated privately since August.”
“In August we were in Maine celebrating our anniversary.”
“He said the trip was for appearances.”
Catherine felt something inside her go very still. “We spent one night at a motel because the rental house had mold. He complained about the pillows for three days.”
Amber’s eyes filled. “He said you had separate rooms.”
“We did not.”
Priya intervened. “Ms. Collins, explain the corporate documents.”
Amber folded her hands. “Michael told me Catherine planned to step away after the birth. He said the board needed continuity. I drafted options at his direction.”
“Did he tell you Mrs. Harrison consented?”
“Yes.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
Amber looked at Catherine. “He asked me to remove language requiring her written approval.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“Why did that concern you?”
“Because if she agreed, there was no reason to remove it.”
Catherine adjusted the carrier strap. “Yet you continued.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Amber’s voice became smaller. “Because I wanted what he promised.”
The honesty was ugly and therefore credible.
“What did he promise?”
“That after the baby was born, he would move into the River North apartment. That the divorce would be announced quietly. That I would become chief of staff after the Meridian deal.”
Catherine looked at Priya. “Was that position real?”
Priya made a note. “Continue.”
Amber wiped beneath one eye. “I knew there were things that didn’t add up. He never showed me divorce papers. He always had a reason. Your health. The board. His mother. The timing of the financing.”
“And you decided the person being deceived was you.”
“Yes.”
“What did you think I was?”
Amber did not answer.
“A difficult wife?” Catherine asked. “A rich woman clinging to appearances? An unstable pregnant executive?”
“I thought you knew more than you admitted.”
“Why?”
“Because he said you both had arrangements.”
Catherine laughed once, quietly. Sophie stirred.
Amber’s gaze went to the baby. “I should never have answered the phone.”
“No.”
“I had been drinking.”
“That explains the volume, not the sentence.”
Amber nodded.
“What happened after the call?”
“Michael came out of the bathroom. I told him you had called again. He asked what I said.”
“And?”
“I told him.”
“What did he do?”
Amber looked toward the speakerphone, perhaps remembering her attorney was listening. “He called you. When you didn’t answer, he called the hospital. Then he left.”
“Did he tell you to come?”
“No.”
“Why were you there?”
“I followed him.”
“To the maternity floor.”
“I thought he would blame me for everything and disappear into the marriage again.”
Catherine stared at her.
Amber’s cheeks flushed. “I know how that sounds.”
“It sounds like you came to a hospital where I had just given birth because you wanted to protect your claim.”
“Yes.”
The word landed without decoration.
Catherine looked down at Sophie. The baby’s lips moved in sleep.
“Did Michael ever discuss seeking custody?” Priya asked.
Amber’s posture tightened. “Not before the hospital.”
“What did he say after?”
“He said Catherine would use the baby to punish him. He asked me to collect messages showing she had been emotional at work.”
Catherine looked up.
“Did you?”
“I downloaded emails from the executive archive.”
“Where are they?”
“I gave them to my attorney.”
“Were they provided to Michael?”
“Some.”
May you like
Priya’s voice sharpened. “Which ones?”
Amber named three incidents. An argument about the Fulton Market lobby. A message Catherine sent at two in the morning after discovering a budget reduction. An email in which Catherine wrote, I am tired of being treated as decorative.
