Chương 10
Accept emergency financing from a private-equity firm that would take control, remove the Marlowe name, and dismiss nearly a third of the staff.
Teresa attended the meeting as a shareholder. Arthur was not permitted inside.
The board chair asked whether she would support the private-equity proposal.
“My shares would be diluted to almost nothing,” Teresa said.
“So would Ethan’s.”
Martin Kell shifted in his chair. “That is true.”
“And two hundred people lose jobs.”
“Approximately sixty-eight positions.”
“People, Martin.”
He removed his glasses. “Yes. People.”
The bankruptcy proposal offered a chance to preserve more jobs but would expose the company’s records in court and likely destroy its reputation. Selling Baltimore might reduce immediate pressure but would not solve the missing funds or lender distrust.
“What would my father do?” Teresa asked.
The question embarrassed her as soon as she said it.
Martin looked toward the river. “Your father would shout for forty minutes, insult the lenders, make three impossible promises, and then call me at midnight to ask which option kept the electricians paid.”
A few board members smiled.
Teresa did not.
“What keeps them paid?”
“None without cost.”
For years, she had let Arthur make company decisions because he moved through money without appearing afraid of it. She had mistaken confidence for insulation. Now the numbers seemed less like strategy than a list of people who would absorb damage in a particular order.
She requested seventy-two hours.
That evening, Genevieve called.
Her voice was unsteady. “Someone broke into my office.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes.”
“What was taken?”
“My laptop. Paper files. Nothing else.”
“Where are you?”
“At a hotel.”
“Is Harrison contacting you?”
“No. That’s worse.”
Teresa looked toward Ethan, who was asleep on the couch with a nature documentary playing quietly.
“Victoria will arrange for you to speak with the investigators.”
“They already think I helped him.”
“You did.”
“I helped Arthur. I didn’t know Harrison was taking the money.”
“You submitted false invoices.”
“Yes.”
“You kept the money.”
“Yes.”
Genevieve’s breath caught. “I know what I did.”
The words did not ask for forgiveness. Teresa disliked her less for that and resented the feeling.
“Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” Teresa asked.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t know.”
“That makes two of us.”
Genevieve agreed to cooperate formally. In exchange for no promise beyond consideration, she provided passwords, client files, and an old phone containing messages Harrison had told her to delete. She also surrendered the luxury items bought through inflated consulting payments.
The watch Arthur had purchased for Teresa remained unopened.
An investigator photographed it inside the white shopping bag and logged it as potential evidence. Teresa never saw it outside the box.
Arthur moved from the mansion into a furnished studio near his attorney’s office. The court permitted overnight parenting time after a home visit and agreement that his legal situation would be explained to Ethan only in age-appropriate terms.
On Ethan’s first overnight, Teresa packed three shirts, two pairs of jeans, his inhaler, the stuffed raccoon, and seven pairs of socks.
“You always pack too many,” Ethan said.
“I’m preparing for a sock emergency.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“That is what people say before one happens.”
He smiled despite himself.
Arthur arrived wearing jeans and an old gray jacket. Without the suit, he looked less like the man from the boardroom and more like the person who used to repair cabinet hinges badly on Sunday afternoons.
Ethan carried his own bag downstairs.
At the curb, Arthur opened the trunk of a rented sedan.
“What happened to your car?” Ethan asked.
“I sold it.”
“Why?”
“It cost too much.”
“You said good cars save money because they don’t break.”
“I said many things with great confidence.”
Ethan looked at Teresa. “That one was kind of funny.”
“It was acceptable,” she said.
Arthur placed the bag in the trunk. “We’ll be back tomorrow by four.”
“Three fifty-five,” Teresa said.
“Of course.”
When the car disappeared, she remained on the sidewalk. She had spent weeks wanting silence. Now the apartment above the bakery felt vacant enough to expose every pipe and refrigerator hum.
Victoria arrived with takeout and three binders.
“You need to decide about the company,” she said.
“You could pretend to be my friend for fifteen minutes.”
“I brought noodles.”
“That bought you seven.”
They ate at the small table. Victoria removed her jacket, something Teresa had never seen her do in a meeting. A loose thread hung from the cuff of her blouse. She twisted it around one finger while Teresa described the financing options.
“You own valuable assets outside Marlowe,” Victoria said.
“Not enough to cover the company’s debt.”
“Enough to attract a partner if you contribute.”
“You’re suggesting I invest more?”
“I’m telling you someone will suggest it. You should know your limit before they do.”
Teresa owned the mansion jointly with Arthur, a smaller commercial building inherited from her father, investment accounts, and a house in Maine she had not visited since her mother died. Selling some assets could help fund a restructuring plan, but not without exposing her to losses Arthur’s choices had created.
“Why should I save his company?” she asked.
Victoria wound the loose thread tighter.
“Is it his?”
“He ran it.”
“You own more than he does.”
“He turned it into what it is.”
“He also turned it into what it is now.”
Teresa pushed the noodles around her container. “My father left me shares because he didn’t trust me to run it.”
“Did he say that?”
“He made Arthur chief executive.”
“He made Arthur chief executive because you were twenty-seven, designing museums in Chicago, and told him you would rather sleep in an airport than attend a lender dinner.”
“I still would.”
“Then don’t confuse not wanting his job with being incapable of a decision.”
May you like
The next morning, Teresa drove to the mansion alone.
She had not entered since leaving with the suitcase. Arthur’s access had been limited by agreement, and Genevieve had never returned. The housekeeper came twice a week, but the foyer smelled closed and cool.
