Chương 8
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
He went downstairs and found Claire’s second key in Evelyn’s handbag, which she had left in the coat closet during the rush to the hospital. Beside it was Claire’s phone.
The battery was dead.
Adrian carried both upstairs but stopped outside the nursery.
Claire lay on the daybed facing the wall. A half-finished mural of pale green branches covered the wall opposite her. They had planned to add small birds after deciding whether the baby’s name would be Jonah or Miles. For three weeks, the paint cans had remained unopened beneath the window.
He placed the keys and phone on the floor beside the door without waking her.
Then he returned to the master bedroom and lay fully dressed on top of the beige coverlet.
He slept for eleven minutes.
A call from Daniel woke him.
The Singapore buyer had agreed to resume negotiations, but only if Vale Hospitality provided complete financial statements by the next morning and accepted a lower valuation.
“How much lower?” Adrian asked.
Daniel told him.
Adrian sat up.
“That wipes out the preferred return.”
“Yes.”
“My mother will never approve it.”
“She may not have a choice.”
“She always believes she has a choice.”
Daniel was quiet. “What happened this morning? Really?”
Adrian looked toward the armchair.
“I told you.”
“I thought you were speaking figuratively.”
“No.”
“Jesus.”
“Claire had been kneeling long enough that she was having trouble standing.”
“Did Evelyn—”
“She says she didn’t force her.”
“Did Claire say she did?”
“She said the door was locked.”
Daniel exhaled. “Are you calling the police?”
“I don’t know.”
“You should speak to counsel.”
“The company’s counsel?”
“Not the company’s.”
Adrian rubbed his eyes.
Daniel said, “Evelyn told one of the directors that Claire had become unstable during pregnancy and misunderstood a private family disagreement.”
“When?”
“After the meeting.”
“She’s building a defense.”
“She may believe it.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“No.”
“Do you believe it?”
Daniel did not answer immediately.
Adrian looked at the dead phone outside the nursery door.
“I believe you found something terrible,” Daniel said. “I don’t know what happened before you entered the room.”
It was careful. Reasonable. Cowardly.
It was also exactly how Adrian had responded to Claire for weeks.
“Send the revised offer,” he said.
He ended the call before Daniel could say anything else.
Claire woke near sunset.
Adrian had moved Evelyn’s suitcases to the garage and arranged for a bonded storage company to collect them the next morning. He ordered groceries, then canceled the order because Claire had asked him not to turn mustard into an emergency. He made toast and burned the first four slices.
When she entered the kitchen, he was scraping blackened crumbs into the sink.
“You cook like you’re punishing bread,” she said.
“I forgot the setting was high.”
“It has numbers.”
“I thought six meant normal.”
“Six means fire.”
She opened the refrigerator and studied the labeled containers. After a moment, she chose one marked MONDAY LUNCH and peeled away the instruction label.
Adrian watched her put it in the microwave.
“You don’t have to eat that.”
“I’m hungry.”
“I can make something.”
“You just lost a fight with toast.”
He leaned against the counter.
The microwave turned. Evelyn’s handwriting rotated behind the glass.
Claire said, “My phone was outside the nursery.”
“I found it in her handbag.”
“And the keys?”
“Same place.”
“Did you take pictures?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
The microwave beeped.
Claire carried the container to the table. It held chicken, brown rice, and overcooked green beans. She ate three bites.
Adrian sat across from her.
“The board reduced my authority for a week,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“I deserved some of it.”
She looked up.
“I changed my flight without telling anyone. I didn’t read Daniel’s emails. I wanted to come home and pretend the company did not exist until tomorrow.”
“That sounds less like misconduct and more like a weekend.”
“It’s Monday.”
“I’ve lost track.”
He folded a paper napkin once, then stopped when he remembered her doing the same.
“The Singapore buyer lowered the offer,” he said. “If we accept, my mother loses control of the company.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Would we be broke?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Claire waited.
“We would have less,” he said.
“How much less?”
“I don’t know until I see the revised terms.”
“That means you know approximately.”
He picked at a loose edge of the napkin. “We could keep the house, assuming we don’t use it as collateral.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No, we would not be broke. We would still be wealthy by any normal definition.”
“Then why did your mother need my signature before breakfast?”
“Because this isn’t normal to her.”
Claire pushed the green beans around the container.
“Where is she now?”
“The Langham.”
“Of course she is.”
“I had her things packed.”
“Did you find the papers?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He leaned forward. “I’m not going to take them.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Claire set down her fork.
“I don’t know what you’ll do when she tells you the company is dying and your father’s name will disappear from the buildings.”
“It won’t matter.”
“It matters already. Your voice changed.”
Adrian sat back.
She was right. He hated that she was right because it made his mother’s cruelty harder to separate from the truth she had used to justify it.
Vale Hospitality was not simply money. It was the brass plaque Adrian polished with his sleeve when he entered the first hotel his father opened. It was the Christmas cards employees sent Evelyn after she preserved their pensions during restructuring. It was his father’s name on a company that had outlived his worst decisions.
Claire resumed eating.
After a while, Adrian said, “What happened before I came in?”
Her fork stopped.
“You don’t have to tell me tonight.”
“I was in the kitchen. She brought the papers down and put them beside my breakfast.”
May you like
“What did she say?”
“That you had agreed. I asked why you hadn’t mentioned it. She said you knew I would become anxious.”
