Chương 12
Claire threw a dish towel at the television.
Melissa, sitting on the floor with takeout containers, said, “Violence again.”
“It was a towel.”
“Escalation.”
Claire changed the channel.
Daniel’s lawyer issued a statement calling the accusations false and defamatory.
Rebecca Sloan terminated her representation of him.
Vale Holdings’ board confirmed that its internal review found no company funds had been used in the settlement and no evidence that Claire had ever been part of any transaction.
Adrian remained on leave for another week.
The museum asked Claire to return whenever she wanted.
She did not want to yet.
On Sunday, her father sent a text.
You destroyed me for him.
Claire read it once.
Then again.
She did not answer.
Five minutes later:
Your mother would be ashamed.
Her hand began to shake.
Melissa reached for the phone.
Claire pulled it away.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m keeping it.”
“For evidence?”
Claire looked at the screen.
“No.”
She took a screenshot and sent it to Nora.
Then blocked the number.
“For me.”
A week later, Claire asked Adrian to meet.
Not at his apartment.
Not at hers.
Not at the penthouse office.
They met in a quiet restaurant at three in the afternoon when the lunch crowd had left and dinner had not begun.
Adrian arrived first.
He wore a navy sweater instead of a suit.
Claire hated that she noticed.
She sat across from him.
For several seconds neither spoke.
A waiter poured water and asked whether they wanted menus.
Claire said yes.
Adrian said no.
The waiter looked between them.
Claire said, “Bring two.”
After he left, Adrian said, “I’m not hungry.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Fair.”
She looked at him.
“Stop saying fair when I’m angry.”
He almost smiled.
“Okay.”
Silence returned.
Claire folded the corner of the paper napkin, then flattened it.
Adrian watched her hands but said nothing.
The waiter returned with menus.
Claire opened hers and read three appetizers without understanding any of them.
Finally she said, “Why three twenty-five?”
Adrian leaned back.
“Daniel demanded six.”
“Six hundred thousand?”
“Yes.”
“You negotiated.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Of course you negotiated.”
“He had debts. We knew what would actually solve the immediate pressure.”
“We.”
“Samuel and I.”
“You were thirty-three years old.”
“Yes.”
“You had met me once.”
“Twice by then.”
Claire opened her eyes.
“What?”
“The settlement happened after the museum breakfast in March.”
She stared.
“You were at that?”
“You spoke on a panel.”
“I know I spoke on a panel. I didn’t know you were there.”
“I sat in the back.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked uncomfortable.
It was almost satisfying.
“I liked you.”
Claire stared at him.
“That is deeply creepy.”
“Yes.”
“You’re agreeing too fast.”
“I’ve had a week.”
She looked down at the menu.
Despite everything, a laugh escaped her.
She covered it with her hand.
Adrian smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
“I never intended to buy access to you.”
“I know.”
He went still.
It was the first time she had said it.
Claire looked at him.
“I know the contract was forged.”
He nodded.
“That doesn’t make what you did okay.”
“I know.”
“No. Listen.”
He did.
“You heard my father threaten me. You decided he was dangerous. You investigated him. You discovered a legal threat I didn’t know about. You paid him to withdraw it and disappear. Then you met me again, dated me, slept in my home, listened to me talk about how relieved I was that he had stopped calling, and you never told me why.”
Adrian’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
“You let me believe he had changed.”
“I know.”
“That mattered.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
He looked at her.
“No,” he said after a moment. “Not the way it mattered to you.”
That answer stopped her.
Adrian looked toward the window.
Cars moved outside.
A cyclist shouted at a taxi.
He continued.
“When your father stopped contacting you, I thought the outcome proved the decision.”
Claire said nothing.
“That is how I’ve run most of my life,” he said. “If the fire stops, I call the fire out.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
“Also arrogant.”
“Yes.”
She gave him a warning look.
“Sorry.”
The waiter appeared.
They ordered food neither particularly wanted.
When he left, Claire said, “Did you ever think I might have wanted to fight Daniel myself?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I thought you would refuse the settlement.”
“I would have.”
“I know.”
“So you did it because you knew I would say no.”
Adrian looked at the table.
“Yes.”
There it was.
No protective language.
No excuse.
Claire felt tears rise unexpectedly.
She hated crying in restaurants.
She picked up her water.
“You stole that choice.”
“Yes.”
Her throat tightened.
“And the worst part is it worked.”
Adrian’s eyes lifted.
“He left me alone. I was happier. I slept. I stopped checking the lobby before I went downstairs. I stopped wondering if he was going to show up at work. You gave me something I desperately wanted.”
“I know.”
“And you did it in a way I never would have agreed to.”
He nodded.
“That’s what I don’t know what to do with.”
Adrian rubbed his thumb along the edge of the table.
“You don’t have to do anything with it for me.”
Claire looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t owe me forgiveness because the result was good.”
She swallowed.
“And you don’t owe me forgiveness for hitting you.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
He looked down.
“I know.”
“No. Don’t make it easy.”
“I’m not.”
“It was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I was furious.”
“I know.”
“That does not make it less wrong.”
“No.”
She leaned back.
“This conversation is terrible.”
“Yes.”
That time she let him say it.
The food came.
They ate.
Not much.
Adrian complained that the restaurant had ruined roasted carrots by putting raisins on them.
Claire said raisins ruined everything.
May you like
They argued about whether oatmeal cookies were improved or destroyed by raisins.
For four minutes they were not discussing betrayal.
