Chương 6
“Who was notified?”
“Northline, lead counsel, and the lending group.”
“Not Sterling?”
“Sterling’s internal administrator received an automated exception notice.”
Ethan looked toward the house.
I followed his gaze.
A man stood just inside the French doors.
I had seen him earlier beside Ethan’s father.
Gray suit, red tie, heavy face.
He was gone before I could place him.
“Who was that?” I asked.
Ethan said, “Nobody.”
My father stared at him.
“That guy looked pretty solid for nobody.”
Mercer turned.
The doorway was empty.
“Clara?”
“Gray suit, red tie.”
Leonard answered.
“Martin Vale.”
Priya’s head came up.
“Sterling general counsel?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s he going?”
Leonard took out his phone.
“I’ll find out.”
Ethan stepped in front of him.
“Don’t.”
Leonard stopped.
That single word carried more guilt than Ethan seemed to understand.
“Move,” Leonard said.
“Leonard.”
“Move.”
Ethan did.
Leonard walked toward the house while dialing.
Olivia watched him go.
“Why would Martin be involved?”
Ethan’s mouth tightened.
She took another step.
“Why would our general counsel be involved in a transfer I know nothing about?”
“Because Dad knew.”
The words slipped out.
Ethan seemed to hear them only after he said them.
Olivia went still.
“What?”
He exhaled through his nose.
“Dad knew.”
“Your father authorized this?”
“No.”
“You just said he knew.”
“He knew we needed options.”
“What options?”
“Alder Ridge was becoming a problem.”
“Because of her?”
Olivia pointed at me.
I looked at Ethan.
He did not correct her.
Something sour moved through me.
There it was again.
When correction cost him something, he let the lie breathe.
Priya folded the transfer notice once.
“Clara, we need to preserve devices.”
Ethan immediately said, “No.”
She looked at him.
“That wasn’t directed to you.”
“You cannot seize my phone.”
“No one said seize.”
“That’s what you mean.”
“I mean preserve.”
“That’s lawyer language for take it.”
“It is lawyer language for don’t delete anything.”
His face changed.
Just slightly.
Priya saw it.
So did I.
“Have you deleted anything?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then preserving your phone shouldn’t scare you.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Give it to her.”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
My father whispered, “Well, that seems great.”
My mother gave him a look.
“What?”
“Still helping.”
Ethan lowered his voice.
“My phone contains confidential company material.”
Priya said, “Then outside counsel can image relevant data under agreed protocol.”
“I’m not consenting to anything.”
“Also your right.”
She nodded toward the house.
“But if litigation becomes likely, your preservation obligations exist whether you like them or not.”
Olivia stared at her son.
“Give her the phone.”
He turned.
“Mom.”
“Give her the phone.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then help me.”
He looked at her for a long second.
Something passed between them that I had never seen before.
Not affection.
Not fear exactly.
Recognition.
Olivia’s cruelty had always made her look powerful.
Now I saw something underneath it.
She was a woman accustomed to believing the family structure would hold because everyone beneath her absorbed the shock.
Ethan had been one of those people.
Maybe I had been another.
Now the structure had moved.
My mother touched my arm.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m cold.”
“You’re not wet.”
“I know.”
She rubbed my upper arm anyway.
It was ridiculous.
She was the one drenched, and she was warming me.
“Mom, you should go change.”
“Now.”
She looked at my face.
“Are you asking because you need me gone?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She kissed my cheek.
“I’m going because my bra has become a public utility.”
Rachel choked.
My father stared at her.
“Susan.”
“What?”
“I have never heard you say the word bra in front of strangers.”
“I’ve had a difficult afternoon.”
He took her hand.
They started toward the bridal suite with Mark.
My father stopped beside me.
“You want me to stay?”
Every part of me wanted him to.
I also knew exactly what would happen if Ethan provoked him again.
“No.”
He nodded.
“Good answer.”
Then he looked at Ethan.
“I’m changing out of these pants because my daughter asked me to.”
Ethan said nothing.
My father pointed one wet finger at him.
“Don’t make me regret being obedient.”
“Dad.”
“I’m going.”
He followed my mother inside.
The terrace felt emptier after they left.
Not quieter.
Guests had begun dividing into little islands.
Some were leaving.
Others hovered near the bar, trapped between etiquette and curiosity.
Denise spoke quietly with the musicians.
One violinist had started eating an hors d’oeuvre with her fingers.
The ordinariness of it steadied me.
I looked down at my wedding dress.
A small wet handprint marked the waist where my mother had touched me.
For some reason, that nearly broke me.
Ethan noticed.
His voice softened.
“Clara.”
I did not look up.
“I know this looks bad.”
I laughed without humor.
“You forged my signature.”
“I didn’t forge it.”
“Then say who did.”
He looked past me.
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
His face hardened.
“You’re making this impossible.”
I finally looked at him.
“No, Ethan.”
I held up the notice.
“This made us impossible.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
Then, very quietly, he said, “You signed something six months ago.”
Priya moved closer.
“What?”
Ethan’s attention never left me.
“The authorization wasn’t forged.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“You signed it.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“At Northline.”
“That’s impossible.”
“You signed a contingent consent package during the restructuring review.”
Priya said, “Which package?”
Ethan looked at her.
“You know exactly which one.”
“I know several.”
“The March eleventh packet.”
I remembered March eleventh.
Six hours in a conference room.
Cold sandwiches.
Two dozen signature pages.
A printer that jammed twice.
My chest tightened.
“What was the consent for?”
Ethan answered before Priya could.
“Emergency continuity.”
I stared at him.
“That did not authorize transfer to you.”
“It authorized designated control if the asset entered default risk.”
“Designated by whom?”
He did not answer.
Priya’s face had changed.
Not panic.
Calculation.
She held out her hand.
“Mercer.”
May you like
He was already opening the portfolio.
He removed a second document.
