smon

Chương 9

Michael had replied, No one thinks that.

He had later preserved the message as evidence that she was unstable.

Catherine felt nauseated.

Amber looked at her. “I also downloaded his replies.”

Priya paused. “Why?”

“Because context matters.”

It was the first thing Amber said that Catherine did not hate.

The board meeting was scheduled for Friday.

Nolan Reese called Catherine the night before. He had been Michael’s closest professional ally for a decade and the company’s chief financial officer. He spoke in a careful tone that suggested other people were in the room.

“We need to avoid irreversible decisions made during a personal crisis,” he said.

Catherine sat at the kitchen table labeling bottles. “The affair is personal. Misuse of company funds is not.”

“The expenses are being reviewed.”

“By whom?”

“Outside counsel.”

“Chosen by Michael?”

“Approved by the audit committee.”

“After Priya contacted them.”

Nolan sighed. “Catherine, Meridian is watching. If they withdraw, we lose the Fulton financing.”

“Then perhaps we should not have tied the company’s future to one lender.”

“This is not the moment to relitigate strategy.”

“It became the moment when Michael tried to suspend my authority.”

“He says the documents were contingency planning.”

“He lies.”

“So does Amber.”

“Then review the records.”

“We are.”

Catherine sealed a label crookedly and peeled it off. “Did you attend the meeting at the Langham?”

Silence.

“Nolan.”

“I attended dinner.”

“How late?”

“Eleven thirty.”

“Who remained when you left?”

“Michael, Amber, representatives from Meridian.”

“Names.”

“I’m not comfortable discussing counterparties on an unsecured call.”

“Were Meridian representatives still there at three in the morning?”

Another pause.

“No.”

Catherine set down the pen.

“What time did they leave?”

“Approximately twelve fifteen.”

“Then there was no meeting at three.”

“Not with Meridian.”

“Did you know about Amber?”

“No.”

She believed he had not known the full affair. She did not believe he had known nothing.

“Nolan, did Michael ask you to support temporary authority during my leave?”

“He raised continuity concerns.”

“And you?”

“I said any change required your participation.”

A small clue, nearly hidden in Amber’s messages, returned to Catherine: Nolan will overreact if he thinks it’s permanent.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Catherine, listen to me. Michael acted terribly. But removing him as chief executive now may damage every employee in the company.”

“How many employees were considered when he billed his affair to them?”

“That is not how expenses work.”

“It is exactly how expenses work.”

“You are angry.”

“Yes.”

“You are also two weeks postpartum.”

Catherine stopped breathing for a moment.

Nolan continued quickly. “I mean only that you should have time.”

“Would you say that to Michael if he had undergone abdominal surgery?”

“This isn’t about competence.”

“You brought my body into a governance conversation.”

“That was not my intention.”

“Intent is not the only thing that causes harm.”

She heard Daniel’s voice inside the sentence.

Nolan was quiet.

Catherine straightened the next label. “I will be at the meeting.”

Michael came to the penthouse the morning of the board vote.

His visit was not scheduled. Helen had not arrived. Priya was on her way to the office. Catherine saw him through the security monitor and considered refusing entry.

Then he held up a paper bag from the bakery near their first apartment.

She opened the door.

“That is manipulative,” she said.

“I know.”

“What’s in it?”

“Almond croissants.”

“I don’t like almond croissants.”

“You ate them every Sunday for three years.”

“Because you liked them.”

Michael looked down at the bag. “I thought you did.”

The mistake was ordinary and devastating.

Catherine let him inside.

He placed the bag on the kitchen island. He looked thinner. Stubble shadowed his jaw. The confidence he carried into negotiations had been replaced by constant alertness, as though every object in the penthouse might accuse him.

Sophie slept in a portable bassinet near the windows.

Michael walked toward her but stopped several feet away. “May I?”

“Wash your hands.”

He did.

When he returned, Catherine lifted Sophie and placed her in his arms. Michael sat on the sofa, supporting the baby’s head properly this time.

For several minutes, he said nothing.

Catherine poured coffee. She gave him the cup with the chipped rim he always chose, then hated herself for remembering.

“The audit committee may recommend leave,” he said.

“I know.”

“I didn’t steal from the company.”

“You used company funds to subsidize an affair with your subordinate.”

“The travel had legitimate business purposes.”

“The apartment?”

“Executive housing.”

“For the executive you were sleeping with.”

He looked down at Sophie. “I’ll reimburse everything.”

“That is not the only issue.”

“The board documents were drafts.”

“At your direction.”

“I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“You disappearing into motherhood and leaving me responsible for a company you would still criticize from a distance.”

Catherine stared at him. “You believed I would stop working.”

“I believed you might need to.”

“That is not the same.”

“I didn’t know what would happen after the delivery.”

“Neither did I.”

“You had already changed. Everything was the baby.”

“I was pregnant.”

“And I was outside it.”

The sentence was selfish. It was also the first honest thing he had said about the affair.

Michael continued, barely above a whisper. “You and the doctors spoke a language I didn’t understand. Measurements, blood pressure, risk. You made lists. You corrected how I installed the car seat. Every time I touched you, I was afraid I would hurt you. Then at work, you questioned every decision I made.”

“So you found someone who didn’t.”

“Amber made me feel useful.”

“Amber depended on your approval for her salary.”

“I know how it looks.”

“It looks accurate.”

Michael’s face tightened. “I am not blaming you.”

“You are arranging the blame so it resembles context.”

May you like

Sophie moved against his chest. He placed one hand over her back.

“My father had an apartment,” he said. “On Oak Street. I used to think he went there because our house was too loud. I found out later there were women.”

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