Chương 6
Mara sat beside Vanessa with a yellow legal pad.
Samuel placed a binder on the table.
“I represented Mrs. Hale in the sale,” he said. “Not you. Not Adrian.”
“Understood,” Mara said.
“I met with her alone twice.”
“Good.”
“I had no concerns regarding her capacity.”
“Good.”
“She negotiated material terms.”
“Good.”
“She rejected Ms. Hale’s first offer.”
Vanessa looked at Mara.
Mara did not look back.
Samuel continued.
“She increased the purchase price by four hundred thousand dollars, removed a requested furniture credit, insisted on retaining six pieces of art, and demanded a sixty-day occupancy license at nominal rent.”
Vanessa nodded.
Samuel looked at her.
“Do you remember that?”
“Yes.”
“You did not like the art term.”
“I liked one of the paintings.”
“You argued about it for twenty minutes.”
“It’s a good painting.”
Samuel’s mouth twitched.
Mara wrote something.
Samuel opened the binder.
“Eleanor also requested that the transaction remain confidential until closing.”
“Why?” Mara asked.
“She said her son would interfere.”
“Did she explain what she meant?”
Samuel leaned back.
“She said Adrian had a habit of making problems his responsibility and then treating responsibility as ownership.”
Vanessa looked at the table.
That sounded exactly like Eleanor.
Samuel continued.
“I asked whether she feared him.”
“And?”
“She said no.”
Mara waited.
Samuel sighed.
“Then she said, ‘Not physically.’”
Vanessa’s stomach tightened.
“Did you document that?” Mara asked.
“Yes.”
The conference room door opened.
An assistant leaned in.
“Mr. Beck, Eleanor Hale is here.”
Samuel frowned.
“Did you ask her to come?”
“No.”
The assistant looked uncomfortable.
“Her son is with her.”
Mara’s pen stopped.
Vanessa sat back.
Samuel closed the binder.
“Put them in conference room three.”
The assistant left.
Samuel looked at Mara.
“I am not meeting with Adrian while representing Eleanor.”
“Good,” Mara said.
Samuel stood.
“I’ll speak with my client privately.”
Vanessa watched him leave.
Mara tapped her pen once.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Useful answer.”
“What do you think he’s doing?”
“Adrian?”
“Yes.”
“What he always does when he loses control.”
“You don’t know what he always does.”
“I know his filings.”
Vanessa almost smiled.
Then the door opened again.
Samuel returned alone.
His face had changed.
“What?” Mara asked.
Samuel sat down.
“Eleanor wants to suspend my representation.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“Why?”
“She says she needs time to determine whether she wishes to challenge the transaction.”
Mara leaned back.
“Did she tell you why?”
“She says she is under significant family pressure.”
“From whom?”
Samuel gave Mara a look.
“I think we all know.”
Vanessa’s mouth went dry.
“Did you ask whether she wants the sale undone?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘I want my son to stop looking at me like I betrayed him.’”
No one spoke.
Outside the conference room, someone laughed near the elevators.
Samuel folded his hands.
“I told her those are different questions.”
“What did she say?” Vanessa asked.
“She said she knows.”
Vanessa stared at the closed binder.
Mara’s voice was calm.
“Samuel, are you withdrawing?”
“If she instructs me to, yes.”
“Until then?”
“I represent her.”
“Then I assume you’ll preserve the file.”
Samuel’s eyes sharpened.
“I have practiced law for forty-two years.”
“I assume nothing professionally.”
He almost smiled.
Vanessa stood.
“I want to see her.”
Mara said, “No.”
Samuel said, “No.”
Vanessa looked at both of them.
“I didn’t ask a legal question.”
Mara lowered her voice.
“If you speak to Eleanor right now and she later says she felt pressured by you, we will spend months explaining why you ignored two lawyers telling you not to.”
Vanessa sat again.
“I hate this.”
“Good,” Mara said. “It means you understand it.”
They left through the side elevator.
Vanessa did not see Adrian.
At noon, a photograph appeared online.
Not in a newspaper.
On an Instagram account run by one of Eleanor’s friends.
It showed Adrian and Eleanor leaving Samuel’s building. Eleanor’s hand was looped through her son’s arm. The caption read:
Family first. Always.
By one fifteen, three people had texted Vanessa.
By two, seven.
At two thirty, a board member from the arts education nonprofit where Vanessa volunteered called to ask whether “everything was all right.”
Vanessa said, “No, but nothing about the foundation is affected.”
The woman cleared her throat.
“Of course.”
“You can ask what you actually want to ask.”
A pause.
“Did you buy Eleanor’s house without Adrian knowing?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“Eleanor knew.”
“Of course.”
“She sold it to me.”
“Right.”
Another pause.
Vanessa almost laughed.
The woman said, “Well. I’m sure it will work itself out.”
Vanessa looked at the untouched coffee on her desk.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think it will.”
At three, Adrian called from an unfamiliar number.
She answered because she thought it might be the hotel.
“You’re enjoying this.”
Vanessa said nothing.
“Don’t hang up.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I saw the filing.”
“Mara sent it to me.”
“You’re really doing this.”
“The divorce?”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“I thought you were angry.”
“I am.”
“No. I mean I thought this was because of last night.”
Vanessa stared at the wall.
“Adrian, I told you I was leaving before the suitcase.”
“You say things when you’re upset.”
“I rented an office storage unit three weeks ago.”
Silence.
He recovered quickly.
“You’ve been planning this for three weeks.”
“Longer.”
“How long?”
She did not answer.
“Vanessa.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because I’m trying to understand when my wife decided I was the enemy.”
“I didn’t.”
“Really.”
“I decided I couldn’t live with you.”
“That sounds different to you?”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t to me.”
Vanessa turned her wedding ring slowly around her finger.
It had left a faint indentation.
Adrian spoke again.
“Mom says you knew she was in trouble.”
“I did.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“She asked me not to.”
“I’m her son.”
“She’s an adult.”
“She was desperate.”
“Yes.”
“So you bought the house.”
“Yes.”
“For less than market.”
“No.”
May you like
“Peter says it appraised higher.”
“Peter hasn’t seen the appraisal we used.”
