Chương 4
“Then I’ll book it personally, and you can reimburse me.”
Claire looked at her.
Olivia shrugged. “You have one hand and no shoes.”
It was after two in the morning when they reached the hotel. Someone had purchased a pair of black flats from a pharmacy and left them in the car. They were one size too large. Claire shuffled through the lobby while a night clerk worked hard not to stare.
Samuel followed her to the elevator.
“You should stay with me,” he said.
“No.”
“There will be photographers at the house by morning.”
“There will be photographers at yours.”
“At least there is security.”
“At least at the hotel I can close a door.”
His face showed the faintest wound. “Claire.”
She pressed the elevator button. “Did you know he was sleeping with her?”
“I knew the possibility existed.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the answer I have.”
The elevator arrived, but Claire did not enter.
Samuel rubbed a thumb across the edge of his wedding ring. He still wore it eighteen months after his wife’s funeral.
“I had Darnell examine the access records,” he said. “Adrian said the Atlas launch required overnight work. Vanessa confirmed it. I chose not to pursue a private allegation without evidence.”
“You pursued everything else without evidence.”
“That is unfair.”
“It’s accurate.”
“Your marriage was not a corporate matter.”
“You made it one when you tied his promotion to my vote.”
“You chaired the committee.”
“You asked me to chair it because you wanted the appearance of independence.”
Samuel’s voice sharpened. “You were the most qualified director.”
“And your daughter.”
“Both things can be true.”
Claire entered the elevator and held the door.
Samuel remained outside.
“You should have told me what you suspected about Pivotal Harbor,” he said.
“I should have told Olivia.”
His eyes narrowed at the distinction.
Claire released the door.
In the hotel room, she removed her earrings and placed them in a water glass because she could not find the small velvet pouch in her bag. She tried to unzip her gown with one hand, failed twice, then sat on the edge of the bed and laughed.
The sound frightened her more than crying would have.
She called the front desk. A female manager came upstairs and helped with the zipper without asking questions. Claire thanked her. The manager glanced at the splint and said, “My sister sent me the video.”
Claire waited.
“She said you looked calm.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I figured.”
After the manager left, Claire put on the hotel robe and stood by the window. Traffic moved along the avenue below. A delivery cyclist waited at a red light with one foot on the curb. Somewhere in the room, the air-conditioning unit rattled every twenty seconds.
Her phone was gone. Outside counsel had collected it at the hospital and given her a temporary device containing only essential numbers. Without the familiar weight of her messages, calendar, photographs, and notes, she felt as though part of her life had been removed for evidence.
At three seventeen, the temporary phone rang.
Adrian’s name appeared because the number had carried over.
Claire answered but said nothing.
His breathing came through first.
“Are you at a hospital?”
“I was.”
“Is your wrist broken?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“You meant to push me.”
“I meant to get you away from Vanessa.”
“I was ten feet from her.”
“You were staring at us.”
“It was difficult not to.”
He exhaled. “I had too much to drink.”
“You had one glass.”
“You were counting?”
“I was your wife.”
The past tense emerged without planning. Adrian heard it. For several seconds, the line held only the faint sound of a television in whatever room he occupied.
“You set me up,” he said.
Claire closed her eyes.
There he was.
“You brought your father in with lawyers and security. You had documents ready. You were waiting for me to make one mistake.”
“The documents were your contract.”
“You knew about Vanessa.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
“And you said nothing.”
“That is the part you find offensive?”
“You let me stand in front of everyone and announce the appointment when you planned to revoke it.”
“I had not planned to revoke it tonight.”
“Then why was Samuel downstairs?”
“He was meeting Olivia and the independent directors before the announcement.”
Adrian went quiet.
Claire continued. “They were coming to stop the ceremony because of the Pivotal Harbor review. The shove only made the decision simpler.”
“That transaction was cleared.”
“Then the review will clear you.”
“You don’t understand enterprise sales.”
“I understand cancellation rights.”
The television on his side went silent.
“Who told you?”
Claire did not answer.
“Was it Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Then you accessed confidential material.”
“A message appeared on the home tablet.”
He cursed under his breath.
The old intimacy of the sound made Claire grip the hotel curtain. She had heard him curse when he burned toast, missed flights, or lost tennis matches. Her body still recognized the rhythm of his irritation even after everything else had changed.
“Listen to me,” he said. “Do not repeat that to anyone.”
“I already did.”
“You have no context.”
“Then provide it to the investigators.”
“You’re my wife.”
“Not for much longer.”
He inhaled sharply.
Claire waited for anger. Instead his voice lowered.
“We can fix this.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m offering.”
“I know what you think fixing means.”
“It means we stop letting your father decide what happens to us.”
“My father did not put your hand on me.”
“I apologized.”
“No. You explained.”
“Claire, I am trying not to make this worse.”
A quiet knock sounded at her door. Hotel security had promised to check the floor after the call was traced through the front desk.
Claire said, “Then stop calling.”
May you like
“What are you going to do?”
She looked at her reflection in the dark window. Without the gown and diamonds, with her hair loosening from its bun, she looked less composed than the woman in the circulating video. She also looked more familiar.
