Chương 9
She rubbed her forehead.
There it was again.
Not cruelty.
Not conspiracy.
A man accustomed to deciding which information mattered when.
“Did you use my name?”
“No. Not initially.”
“Initially?”
“They asked whether the relationship was ongoing and whether there was a child. I answered honestly.”
Nora looked at the bassinet.
The baby’s mouth moved in sleep.
“You told your board about my son before telling me.”
“Our son.”
“Not the point.”
“I know.”
“Ethan.”
“Sorry.”
Nora stood and walked to the window.
Across the street, a man was trying to fit a bicycle into the trunk of a compact car.
It would not fit.
He tried a different angle.
Still no.
Nora watched him remove the front wheel.
“You need to understand something,” she said.
“I’m listening.”
“I am not embarrassed by him.”
“Neither am I.”
“I’m not embarrassed by us.”
A longer pause.
“Neither am I.”
“But I’m not interested in being disclosed like a liability.”
Ethan did not answer immediately.
When he did, the words were slower.
“You shouldn’t be.”
“Then stop treating me like one.”
“I will.”
“No.”
Nora turned from the window.
“You’ll try.”
“Yes.”
“That’s more believable.”
The reporter’s eventual article was less dramatic than anyone had feared.
It noted the relationship, the previous nonprofit connection, Mercer Urban’s statement that the matter had been disclosed to the board, and the fact that Nora’s consulting work had ended before the relevant bid.
There was no photograph of the baby.
No mention of Lydia.
No accusation that survived beyond anonymous insinuation.
For twenty-four hours, people online argued anyway.
Some called Nora a gold digger.
Others called Ethan corrupt.
A handful of strangers discovered Nora’s old professional profile and sent messages demanding comment.
She deleted the apps from her phone for three days.
Her sister read the worst comments despite promising not to.
Then she became angry on Nora’s behalf and reorganized the kitchen cabinets at midnight.
“Why are the mugs above the stove?” Nora asked.
“Because your kitchen was designed by a sociopath.”
“Put them back.”
“No.”
Nora was too tired to fight.
The mugs stayed.
The outside investigation into Ethan’s office took three weeks.
It found no evidence that Nora had been connected to the current bid and no evidence that company money had been paid directly to her.
It did find something else.
Lydia had used Mercer Family Holdings funds to pay Dane’s surveillance invoices.
Daniel had approved them.
Ethan had signed the quarterly expense authorization without reviewing individual line items.
When he told Nora, they were sitting on a bench beside the river while her sister pushed the stroller fifty yards ahead.
Nora looked at him.
“You signed it.”
“Yes.”
“Without reading it.”
“Yes.”
“So technically you paid to have me followed.”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
She stared at the water.
A plastic bottle floated against the concrete embankment.
“That’s almost funny.”
“I’m not finding the funny part.”
“That’s because you’re the rich person in the story.”
He looked at her.
She laughed.
He did not.
“Ethan.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“No. I mean for being careless in a way I could afford to be because other people absorbed the consequences.”
That silenced her.
He looked toward the stroller.
“I used to think being different from my father meant not yelling, not cheating on people, not humiliating employees, not throwing money at every problem.”
Nora waited.
“I didn’t understand that I kept the part where I assumed someone else would handle whatever I didn’t want to examine.”
“That someone was Lydia.”
“For a long time.”
“And now?”
“Now I read my own invoices.”
Nora laughed.
He finally smiled.
Then she asked, “What happens to her?”
The smile disappeared.
“Professionally?”
“All of it.”
“She resigned from the foundation.”
“Resigned or was forced?”
“Both.”
“Family office?”
“She’s out.”
“Police?”
“Her attorney says she’ll cooperate.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
“I don’t control what happens with the case.”
Nora studied him.
“Good answer.”
“I practiced it.”
She rolled her eyes.
He watched the river.
“She called me yesterday.”
Nora’s shoulders stiffened.
“What did she want?”
“To know if I hated her.”
“What did you say?”
“That I didn’t know how to answer.”
Nora considered that.
“Do you?”
“No.”
They sat quietly.
A dog dragged its owner toward the water.
Somebody farther down the path played music from a phone speaker too loudly.
Ethan rubbed his palms together.
“She said something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”
Nora waited.
“She said, ‘You finally get to become a better person because I became the bad one.’”
Nora looked at him.
“That sounds like Lydia.”
“Yes.”
“She’s not completely wrong.”
“No.”
Nora picked at a loose thread on her sleeve.
“She’s also trying to make her behavior your fault.”
“I know.”
“Both can be true.”
“Yes.”
Nora hated how adult that answer sounded.
She leaned back against the bench.
“I don’t forgive her.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I might never.”
“I know.”
“She touched my baby.”
“She touched the carrier.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes burned.
Ethan looked away.
That small act helped.
He did not reach for her.
Did not turn her anger into a moment about comforting him.
After a while Nora said, “I want to talk to her.”
He turned.
“No.”
She laughed.
His face changed.
“Sorry.”
“There it is.”
“I mean I don’t think it’s safe.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“I’d have my attorney there.”
“All right.”
“And you would not be there.”
His jaw tightened.
“All right.”
“Do you understand why?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
He looked irritated.
Good.
She waited.
Finally he said, “Because you don’t want me mediating a conflict I helped create.”
Nora nodded.
“And because?”
“Because she performs for me.”
“Exactly.”
The meeting took place nine days later in a conference room that belonged to no Mercer company.
Nora arrived early.
Her attorney sat beside her.
Lydia arrived precisely on time.
She wore navy instead of gray.
Her hair was shorter.
May you like
Nora resented noticing.
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
