Chương 10
Lena stood outside.
She looked at me first.
“Chloe is downstairs.”
“Leaving?”
“She tried.”
Julian stepped forward.
“Where is she?”
Lena looked at Everett instead of answering him.
“Security stopped her because one of the event staff reported that she removed two document cases from the Apex hospitality suite.”
Everett’s face became very still.
“What document cases?”
“Black leather.”
He swore softly.
Julian moved toward the door.
Everett blocked him.
“Wait.”
“Get out of my way.”
“Not until I know what she took.”
“She works for me.”
“Tonight she was in my suite.”
Julian’s composure finally broke.
“I said move.”
Dad stood between them before the confrontation could become physical.
“Enough.”
Julian turned on him.
“You don’t get to run this.”
Dad’s expression barely changed.
“No.”
He pointed toward me.
“She does.”
I stared at him.
Julian laughed in disbelief.
“Clarissa?”
Dad looked at me.
“Your husband’s company is tied to whatever Helix is doing.”
He glanced toward the door.
“His girlfriend just tried to leave with documents.”
Then back to me.
“You were the one who noticed something was wrong before any of us were in this room.”
I hated what he was doing.
He was refusing to rescue me in exactly the way I had asked.
I looked at Julian.
“What’s in the cases?”
He said nothing.
“Julian.”
His mouth tightened.
“Copies of draft transaction documents.”
“For Helix?”
Silence.
Everett answered for him.
“They have to be.”
I kept my eyes on my husband.
“Who owns Helix?”
Julian looked at the fireplace.
That tiny movement told me the answer mattered more than everything else.
“Who owns it?”
He exhaled.
“I do.”
No one moved.
Even Dad looked surprised.
Everett recovered first.
“You own Helix Holdings?”
“Indirectly.”
“You told Apex it was an independent investment vehicle.”
“It is.”
Dad gave a humorless laugh.
“That sentence should be framed.”
Julian snapped toward him.
“It has outside investors.”
“Who?”
“I can’t disclose that.”
Everett’s face hardened.
“You can to me.”
“Not without counsel.”
“Then get counsel here.”
Julian looked at me again.
His expression had changed.
He no longer seemed afraid of being exposed as an adulterer.
He looked afraid of losing something larger.
“Helix was supposed to protect Cross Meridian.”
“By taking its assets?” I asked.
“No.”
His voice cracked with frustration.
“By isolating them.”
“From creditors?”
He hesitated.
That was answer enough.
Everett swore.
Dad became very quiet.
I felt suddenly cold despite the fireplace.
“You moved company assets into something you control so lenders couldn’t reach them.”
Julian shook his head.
“That is not what happened.”
“Then tell me what did.”
He looked toward the door.
Toward Everett.
Toward my father.
Then finally at me.
“Cross Meridian was going to fail.”
The sentence came out flat.
No drama.
No defiance.
Just fatigue.
I stared at him.
He continued.
“Not in six months.”
His fingers tightened around the back of a chair.
“Not next year.”
“Within weeks.”
Dad’s expression changed.
“How bad?”
Julian laughed softly.
“You already know.”
“Not enough.”
Julian looked at him.
“The Northline liabilities are worse than anyone outside the company understands.”
Everett said, “How much worse?”
Julian swallowed.
“Enough that if the lenders accelerate tomorrow, payroll becomes a problem before the end of the month.”
The room seemed to shrink.
I thought about Cross Meridian employees I had met at holiday parties.
Receptionists.
Engineers.
A man from accounting who performed terrible karaoke every December.
People whose mortgages did not care about Julian’s pride.
“Why didn’t you tell the board?”
I asked.
“I did.”
“When?”
“Not soon enough.”
Dad’s voice turned hard.
“That means you concealed it.”
Julian looked at him.
“I tried to fix it first.”
There it was.
Not greed.
Not exactly.
Pride.
The same pride that could not tolerate an old dress beside him at a gala had been making financial decisions for thousands of employees.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“Helix was your fix,” I said.
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
“Without creditor approval.”
“I thought I could replace the debt before anyone noticed.”
Everett closed his eyes briefly.
“That is an astonishing sentence.”
Julian’s face twisted.
“You think I don’t know that now?”
My phone vibrated again.
Lena glanced at her own.
“She’s asking for Clarissa.”
“Who?”
“Chloe.”
Julian looked at me sharply.
“No.”
I turned toward Lena.
“Why me?”
“She won’t say.”
Julian stepped between me and the door.
“You’re not going down there.”
The old version of me might have obeyed to avoid a scene.
The newer one was not fully formed yet.
But she had arrived far enough.
I looked at his hand gripping the doorframe.
“Move.”
“Clarissa.”
“Move.”
He stared at me.
Something in my face must have convinced him.
His arm dropped.
Lena led me into the corridor.
Dad followed.
I turned.
“No.”
He stopped.
“I’m coming.”
“This is mine.”
He looked ready to argue.
Then he nodded.
“All right.”
It was the first time in years he had allowed me to walk toward a problem without stepping in front of me.
I followed Lena toward the elevator.
Behind us, the library door closed.
The music from the ballroom had changed.
The quartet was playing something light and elegant.
Guests laughed.
Waiters replaced empty glasses.
Upstairs, nobody yet knew that one of the city’s most admired technology companies might not survive the month.
The elevator doors opened.
Lena pressed the lobby button.
“What did Chloe say?”
“Only that she would speak to you.”
“Is security holding her?”
“They asked her to remain until Apex determines whether the cases contain its property.”
“That’s legal?”
“They didn’t physically detain her.”
“Meaning?”
“She agreed after Everett’s security director told her the police could be called.”
I exhaled.
“Messy.”
“Very.”
The doors opened into the lobby.
Chloe sat on a velvet bench near a closed restaurant, flanked by two hotel security employees who were making a visible effort not to look like guards.
May you like
The black document cases rested on the floor beside her.
Her champagne gown looked suddenly too bright for the empty lobby.
