smon

Chương 5

“Where the hell are you?”

“The hospital.”

Silence.

“Is Claire all right?”

“The baby looks stable. They’re monitoring her.”

“What happened?”

Adrian looked through the narrow glass panel in the door. Claire was picking the crust from her toast.

“I came home and found my mother forcing Claire to wash her feet.”

Daniel said nothing.

Adrian continued before the silence could become disbelief. “Claire says loan documents were delivered to the house. Spousal consent for a lien on the property.”

Daniel exhaled slowly. “Adrian.”

“Did you know?”

“I knew Halsey requested additional collateral.”

“I rejected it.”

“I know.”

“Did the board approve another version?”

“There was an emergency finance committee call after you left Singapore.”

“I was on the plane.”

“Yes.”

“My mother convened a vote while I was unreachable?”

“She said you had agreed in principle and that documentation was being finalized.”

“I did not agree.”

“Then we have a serious problem.”

Adrian lowered his voice. “Who voted?”

“Evelyn and both independent directors approved authority to negotiate. Not to close. Nothing can close without your signature and Claire’s consent if the house is included.”

“Where did they get the idea I had reconsidered?”

“From your mother.”

A cart rattled past. Adrian moved closer to the wall.

“What happens now?”

“Halsey expected signed documents this morning. Without them, the bridge loan doesn’t fund. Without the bridge, we may violate the liquidity covenant on Friday.”

“It’s Monday.”

“I’m aware.”

“What about the Singapore sale?”

“The buyer’s investment committee delayed. They want another week.”

“We don’t have another week.”

“No.”

Adrian looked through the door again. Claire had placed the toast back on the tray.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did. Your phone was off.”

“Email?”

“Your mother said contact during the flight would create unnecessary confusion and that she had authority.”

“And you accepted that?”

“I accepted that she is chairwoman and owns thirty-eight percent of the company. I also sent you four emails.”

Adrian had not opened them.

Daniel’s voice softened. “I need to know whether you’re coming in.”

“My wife is in the hospital.”

“I understand.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Then explain it to me later. Right now, I have lenders asking whether the collateral package is intact and directors asking whether the COO abandoned negotiations without notice.”

“I didn’t abandon anything. I took the earlier flight because the buyer delayed.”

“You told the Singapore team you were returning Wednesday.”

“I changed my ticket.”

“And didn’t tell anyone.”

Adrian looked down the corridor.

He had felt clever changing the flight. Claire believed he was landing the following night. He imagined surprising her with ginger candy and breakfast from the bakery she liked. He had congratulated himself for choosing his wife over one more day of meetings.

He had not told his office because he wanted twelve hours when nobody could ask anything from him.

That decision now looked less like tenderness and more like exhaustion disguised as virtue.

“I’ll call you in an hour,” he said.

“Adrian, the board is meeting at ten.”

“Without me?”

“If you don’t attend.”

“What’s the agenda?”

Daniel hesitated. “Interim leadership and financing authority.”

Adrian checked the time. Nine fourteen.

“They’re removing me.”

“They’re discussing options.”

“My mother called the meeting.”

“Yes.”

Adrian rested the back of his head against the wall.

Daniel said, “I’m sorry about Claire.”

The sentence sounded sincere and inadequate.

“Send me everything connected to Halsey,” Adrian said. “Every draft, every email, every board consent.”

“You’re still an officer. I’ll send what you’re entitled to receive.”

“What I’m entitled to?”

“Things are moving quickly.”

The call ended.

When Adrian returned to the room, Claire had eaten half the toast and none of the eggs. He told her about the meeting.

She listened without interrupting.

“You should join it,” she said.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Join from here.”

“I don’t want them hearing monitors.”

“Then sit in the family lounge.”

“I’m not discussing a corporate emergency while you’re—”

“While I’m what?”

He stopped.

Claire wiped crumbs from her fingers. “Don’t make me the reason you avoid a problem you helped create.”

His first reaction was anger. It came hot and defensive, sharpened by lack of sleep.

“I did not create what happened in that bedroom.”

“No. You created the part where she believed you would dismiss me.”

The baby’s heartbeat continued between them.

Adrian’s voice dropped. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Claire said. “It isn’t.”

He looked away.

She took another bite of toast and chewed slowly, tears gathering in her eyes without falling.

“I need you here,” she said. “I also need you not to burn down the rest of our life because you’re guilty.”

He sat beside her.

“What do you want me to do?”

“For the next hour?”

“Yes.”

“Attend the meeting. Listen before you threaten anyone. Ask where the papers came from. Don’t mention what happened to me unless you have to.”

“Why?”

“Because it belongs to me too.”

Adrian nodded.

“And after that?” he asked.

Claire put the toast down.

“After that, I want to decide whether I can go home.”

The board meeting began at ten by video. Adrian joined from a consultation room down the hall. The fluorescent light made everyone on the screen look ill.

Evelyn appeared from a suite at the Langham in Manhattan. She had changed into a navy jacket and pearl earrings. Behind her, the hotel curtains were open to a gray city view.

She did not look like a woman who had left her son’s house under threat less than three hours earlier.

The two independent directors were already present, along with Daniel and the company’s outside counsel. Nobody asked about Claire until formalities had been completed.

Then Evelyn folded her hands.

“Before we begin,” she said, “I want the minutes to reflect that Adrian is participating from a hospital due to a family matter. Claire and the baby are not believed to be in immediate danger.”

Adrian stared at her image.

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“Who told you that?”

“You did not respond to my messages, so I called the hospital.”

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