Chương 4
“Has anyone connected Monroe Residential to me?”
“Not publicly.”
“Yet.”
“Yet.”
Claire drank more water.
“Don’t respond.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Don’t ask anyone to take it down either. That makes it interesting.”
“I know.”
“And tell communications we are not commenting on my personal relationship.”
Nora hesitated.
“What?”
“Hayes called me.”
Claire looked toward the dark windows.
“That was fast.”
“He wanted company records.”
“I terminated the Sterling lease.”
“I gathered that.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like you terminated a tenant’s lease twelve minutes after your fiancé humiliated you in that tenant’s foyer.”
“When you say it like that—”
“There is no flattering way to say it.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Nora was right.
That was another thing Claire relied on her for.
“The property was already up for review.”
“Yes.”
“The renewal terms made no financial sense.”
“Yes.”
“They owe reimbursements.”
“Yes.”
“And none of that became urgent until Ethan dropped your ring into his mother’s drink.”
Claire said nothing.
Nora let the silence remain.
Finally Claire said, “Prepare the review file for the board.”
“That’s what I was going to suggest.”
“And I’ll recuse myself from the final termination decision.”
“Good.”
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
“You sound angry.”
“I’m angry at Ethan.”
“Different tone?”
“Much.”
Claire almost laughed again.
Nora softened.
“Are you okay?”
That question nearly did what the ring had not.
Claire stared at the harbor lights until they blurred.
“No.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
Claire’s first instinct was to say no.
It was the instinct she had followed since childhood whenever someone offered help at precisely the moment she needed it.
“No,” she said.
Then she pressed her lips together.
Nora waited.
Claire looked down at her empty hand.
“Actually, yes.”
“I’ll bring food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That has never stopped me from bringing food.”
The call ended.
Claire stood alone for another minute.
Then she went into the bedroom and changed out of the ivory satin dress Ethan had chosen.
She put it on a hanger instead of throwing it on the floor.
That annoyed her too.
Even humiliated, she could not make herself mistreat good fabric.
At Sterling House, the party had become impossible.
Guests departed in clusters.
They offered Margaret excuses about early mornings, children, flights, headaches, drivers waiting outside. Each excuse was politely accepted.
Nobody mentioned Claire.
That made Claire the only subject anyone was discussing.
Ethan stood near the bar with a drink he was no longer consuming.
He noticed every glance.
His phone had accumulated seventeen messages.
Most were variations of the same question.
What the hell happened?
His cousin Graham sent only:
CALL ME BEFORE YOU DO ANYTHING ELSE STUPID.
Ethan ignored all of them.
Margaret entered the library and shut the door.
“Vivian left.”
“I noticed.”
“She took her father.”
“I noticed that too.”
Margaret walked toward the desk.
At fifty-nine, she had perfected the art of looking composed while furious. She never raised her voice because she considered volume a concession to people without authority.
“We can repair this.”
Ethan looked at her.
“What did you tell Claire about the house?”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“Is that really what you’re concerned about?”
“Yes.”
“I told her nothing.”
“She owns it.”
“The company she controls owns it.”
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“When it became relevant.”
Ethan laughed once.
“We live here.”
“Yes.”
“I grew up here.”
“Yes.”
“It was relevant.”
Margaret looked tired for the first time that night.
“Your father borrowed against the property repeatedly. You know that.”
“I knew there was debt.”
“There was more than debt.”
“How much?”
“That is not tonight’s problem.”
“It became tonight’s problem when Claire asked me who owned my own house.”
Margaret’s eyes flashed.
“It stopped being your house before you met Claire.”
The words landed harder than he expected.
He looked around the library.
The dark shelves. His grandfather’s desk. The brass lamp he had broken with a basketball when he was twelve and blamed on a housekeeper until Margaret made him apologize.
“How?”
“Your father sold it through an intermediary.”
“To Claire?”
“To an investment group. I learned the beneficial ownership later.”
“And you continued living here.”
“We leased it back.”
“From my fiancée.”
“From a company.”
“You knew.”
“I knew six months ago.”
Ethan turned slowly.
“You knew six months ago that Claire controlled this property and said nothing.”
Margaret lifted her chin.
“Claire said nothing either.”
“She was probably waiting for me to figure out my own family finances.”
“That is a generous interpretation.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew exactly what you would do.”
“What?”
“You would feel humiliated.”
He stared at her.
Margaret continued.
“And when you feel humiliated, Ethan, you become reckless.”
Neither of them looked toward the foyer.
They did not need to.
The evidence of her point was still sitting in a champagne flute.
At eleven twelve, an email arrived from Daniel Hayes.
NOTICE OF TERMINATION.
The lease would end thirty days from service under the agreement’s month-to-month provision.
Ethan read the attached letter twice.
Then he forwarded it to Margaret.
Her phone chimed three feet away.
She read the first page without sitting down.
“What did you expect?” Ethan asked.
Margaret looked up.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“She is retaliating.”
“Probably.”
“We can fight it.”
“Can we?”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re taking her side.”
“I don’t know what side I’m taking.”
“She has been lying to you.”
“About owning the house?”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked at the champagne flute on the desk.
“No more than you were.”
Margaret stared at him.
For once, she had no immediate answer.
Nora arrived at Claire’s apartment carrying Thai food, two toothbrushes from a pharmacy, and a pair of gray sweatpants.
Claire opened the door.
“Why did you bring me a toothbrush?”
“In case you decide the one here reminds you of him.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Great. Now you have a spare.”
May you like
Claire stepped aside.
Nora was forty, compact, quick-moving, and usually dressed as though she might be called into a bank meeting without warning. Tonight she wore jeans, sneakers, and a raincoat.
