Chương 7
“Once.”
“What?”
“I was two months behind after the diner closed during the pandemic. My landlord suddenly gave me another thirty days and said somebody had guaranteed the balance.”
Nathan looked down.
“Eleanor?”
“I didn’t know. Now I’m guessing.”
“That sounds like help.”
Lauren’s eyes hardened.
“It is help.”
Nathan met her gaze.
“And?”
“And imagine help coming from somebody who can also ruin your life.”
He said nothing.
“That’s what you people never understand,” Lauren said. “When somebody has that much power, even kindness can feel like a hand around your neck.”
Nathan flinched.
Lauren noticed.
“Sorry.”
“No. Don’t be.”
Mia shifted in the chair.
Both of them lowered their voices automatically.
Lauren continued.
“Your mother never said, ‘I’ll ruin you.’ She didn’t have to. She’d say, ‘You should think carefully before creating a public dispute that could affect your employment.’ Or, ‘Custody cases can become complicated when a parent demonstrates unstable finances.’”
Nathan’s face went cold.
“Custody?”
“She mentioned it twice.”
“Did she threaten to take Mia?”
“Not exactly.”
“That sounds exact enough.”
Lauren shook her head.
“This is what I mean. She never gave me anything clean enough to show anyone.”
Nathan thought of boardrooms.
He had seen men do the same thing.
He had probably done versions of it himself.
“You signed the agreement.”
“Yes.”
“Did she ever tell you not to contact me personally?”
Lauren looked embarrassed again.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After I tried.”
Nathan sat forward.
“You tried to contact me?”
“Three times.”
He stared at her.
“How?”
“Letters.”
“When?”
“First when Mia was two. Then when she was five. Then four months ago.”
Nathan felt a pulse of anger.
“Where did you send them?”
“Your office.”
“They never got to me.”
“I figured.”
“Do you have copies?”
“The last one.”
“Not the others?”
“I wasn’t building a case, Nathan.”
It was the first time she had used his name.
He noticed.
So did she.
Lauren looked away.
“I was trying to decide if I was doing the right thing.”
“What changed four months ago?”
“Mia.”
Nathan glanced toward the sleeping girl.
“She found Daniel’s letters.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
Nathan’s breath stopped.
“You brought one.”
“I brought one tonight.”
“What do the others say?”
Lauren hesitated.
“Mostly dumb things.”
Nathan almost laughed.
“That sounds like him.”
“One is about a broken toaster.”
“Definitely him.”
“One says he hates your mother’s gardener.”
“Also plausible.”
Lauren stared at her hands.
“The last one says he was going to get sober because he wanted to meet his kid without being ashamed.”
Nathan looked down.
He suddenly did not want to read that letter.
Not yet.
A knock sounded.
Nathan’s general counsel entered.
Rebecca Lin was forty-seven, wore a charcoal pantsuit, and carried no visible panic despite having been pulled from her apartment after ten at night.
She looked at Mia asleep in the chair.
Then at Nathan.
Then at Lauren.
“Which one of you wants coffee first?”
Lauren blinked.
“I do.”
“Good. Me too.”
Rebecca set down her bag.
“That means we’re already aligned on something.”
She did not ask for the story immediately.
Nathan appreciated that.
She ordered coffee and sandwiches, removed her heels under the conference table, and told Nathan he looked terrible.
“You could have left that out.”
“I bill by the hour.”
“You’re salaried.”
“Then consider it free.”
Lauren watched them with visible uncertainty.
Rebecca saw it.
She turned to her.
“I’m Nathan’s corporate counsel. That means there are things I cannot ethically advise you on if your interests diverge from his or the company’s.”
Lauren nodded slowly.
“I figured.”
“I can help arrange independent counsel tonight if you want one. Somebody Nathan does not select and does not communicate with privately.”
Nathan said, “Do that.”
Rebecca looked at him.
“I was talking to her.”
Nathan leaned back.
“Right.”
For the first time, Lauren smiled at him without tension.
It lasted two seconds.
Rebecca began asking questions.
Not dramatic ones.
Dates.
Addresses.
Names.
Whether Lauren still had the original agreement.
Whether payments had arrived through checks, transfers, a trust, or third parties.
Whether Mia’s birth certificate named a father.
It did not.
Whether Daniel had ever completed a paternity test.
Lauren did not know.
Whether anyone had tested Mia.
No.
Whether Eleanor had acknowledged paternity in writing.
Not directly.
Whether Lauren had ever told anyone else.
Her mother.
A former boyfriend.
A therapist.
Nathan found himself irritated by the ordinary legal shape of it.
His brother had a possible daughter.
Rebecca wanted bank records.
He knew that was exactly what she should want.
Still, part of him hated her for it.
At one in the morning, Eleanor finally came upstairs.
She had changed out of the satin gown.
Nathan had never before seen his mother change clothes in the middle of one of her own events.
She wore black trousers, a cream blouse, and no earrings.
She looked more like his mother.
That made everything worse.
Rebecca spoke first.
“Eleanor, I need to tell you that I represent Nathan and Cole Meridian. I do not represent you personally in this matter.”
Eleanor stared at her.
“I hired you.”
“Fourteen years ago.”
“Thirteen.”
“Thank you. Still not relevant.”
Nathan looked at the window to hide his reaction.
Eleanor sat.
“I assume Lauren has told you I threatened her.”
Rebecca said, “Lauren has described several conversations. I’m not characterizing them yet.”
“She violated the agreement by coming here.”
Lauren’s body tightened.
Rebecca replied, “We don’t know that.”
“She approached a private event.”
“She worked the event,” Nathan said.
Eleanor looked at Lauren.
Nathan did too.
Lauren shook her head.
“I wasn’t scheduled.”
There it was.
A complication.
Rebecca folded her hands.
“How did you get in?”
Lauren looked uncomfortable.
“A friend works for the catering company. Somebody called out. She said she could get me a shift if I came in black pants and kept my head down.”
Eleanor gave Nathan a look.
He ignored it.
Rebecca asked, “Did you give a false name?”
May you like
“No.”
“Did you misrepresent your employment?”
