Chương 3
At six fifteen, Vivian knocked on my door.
I opened it.
She was already dressed for photographs in a pale silver robe, her hair pinned beneath a silk scarf.
Her eyes searched my face.
“You look terrible.”
“Good morning to you too.”
She stepped inside without being invited.
“Have you reconsidered behaving irrationally?”
“No.”
Her mouth hardened.
Then I smiled.
“I’m marrying Daniel.”
For the first time since I had found them together, my mother looked uncertain.
“You are?”
“Yes.”
She studied me carefully.
“You’re sure?”
“I don’t want to waste all that money.”
The sentence worked because it belonged to her.
Relief softened her face.
She touched my cheek as if nothing had happened.
“That’s my girl.”
I had been waiting my entire life to hear those words without wanting them.
Now they made my skin crawl.
She left to find the hairstylist.
At seven twelve, Miriam arrived through the service entrance carrying a leather briefcase and wearing the same navy suit she wore to funerals.
She took one look at me and did not hug me.
That was why I had called her.
“Show me everything,” she said.
I closed the door behind her.
By the time the first wedding guests began arriving, Miriam had stopped telling me to calm down.
She had started making phone calls.
The first call went to a partner at Miriam’s firm who specialized in corporate governance and sounded deeply irritated about being awake before eight on a Saturday.
The second went to the independent director on Mercer Dynamics’ board, though Miriam made that one from the hallway where I could not hear her exact words.
The third call she refused to explain at all.
“You hired me because I know when not to tell you everything at once,” she said when she came back into my room.
“I hired you because my father trusted you.”
“That too.”
She placed her phone facedown on the dressing table.
Around us, the room had become crowded with people whose jobs required pretending this was an ordinary wedding morning.
Elena was arguing with the hairstylist about whether my veil should sit above or below the twist in my hair.
My cousin Brooke had misplaced one shoe.
Someone from catering brought a tray of pastries nobody touched.
Every few minutes, laughter drifted in from the hallway and struck me as almost obscene.
Miriam opened her briefcase.
“There are two things you need to understand before you do anything public.”
I watched the makeup artist cover the shadows beneath my eyes.
“Go ahead.”
“First, owning fifty-one percent of the voting shares does not mean you can stand at the altar, announce Daniel is fired, and magically erase him from the company.”
“I wasn’t planning on using the word magically.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She slid a folder toward me.
“Your trust gives you control, but governance still matters, contracts still matter, and the other directors still have duties.”
“What can happen today?”
“A properly noticed emergency board meeting can happen today if the directors agree the circumstances warrant one.”
“And do they?”
“One does.”
“How many do I need?”
“Let me work.”
I nodded.
Miriam tapped another folder.
“Second, Vivian’s occupancy of the Chestnut Hill property is messier than you hoped.”
“Of course it is.”
“Your father gave her a contractual right to remain there subject to certain conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“Among other things, she pays carrying costs and does not represent herself as the owner in financial transactions.”
A cold little pressure formed behind my ribs.
“What financial transactions?”
“That is the third thing.”
“You said there were two.”
“I changed my mind.”
Miriam removed several printed pages.
“Your father’s trust administrator sent these after I called.”
I picked up the first page.
At the top was the name of a private lender I recognized because Alder & Rowe had once designed their holiday gala.
Below it was my mother’s name.
The amount beside it was four hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.
“What is this?”
“A loan application.”
“She can’t mortgage the house.”
“She apparently represented that she could.”
I looked up.
“Did they lend her the money?”
“We don’t know yet.”
The makeup artist had stopped working.
Our eyes met in the mirror.
“Could you give us a minute?” I asked.
She packed her brushes without looking at Miriam and left.
Elena followed after one glance at my face, pulling Brooke with her.
When the door closed, I looked again at the paperwork.
My mother had listed the Chestnut Hill house as an asset.
There was a signature beneath a declaration that the information provided was accurate.
“That’s not enough to throw her out.”
“No.”
Miriam sat beside me.
“And I am asking you not to think about throwing anyone anywhere this morning.”
“She slept with my fiancé.”
“I know.”
“She lied about property my father left in trust.”
“I know.”
“And you want me to worry about her comfort?”
“I want you to distinguish punishment from protection.”
I hated her for saying it.
The hatred lasted perhaps ten seconds.
Then I folded the paper and unfolded it again.
“What happens if I do nothing?”
“About the loan?”
“About all of it.”
Miriam leaned back.
“That depends on what Daniel and Vivian do.”
As if summoned by his name, Daniel knocked.
Neither of us answered.
“Claire?”
Miriam stood.
I caught her wrist.
“Stay.”
She looked down at my hand.
“You sure?”
“No.”
She stayed anyway.
Daniel entered wearing his tuxedo pants and white shirt, his tie hanging loose around his neck.
He stopped when he saw Miriam.
“Why is she here?”
“Good morning, Daniel,” Miriam said.
His gaze moved to the folders.
Something drained from his face.
“I asked you a question.”
“And she chose not to answer.”
He shut the door.
“Claire, can we talk alone?”
“No.”
“This is between us.”
Miriam made a quiet sound that might have been a cough.
May you like
Daniel glared at her.
“I’m not discussing my relationship with my fiancée in front of an attorney.”
