Chương 7
Adrian stood.
“No. I’ll do it.”
Denise objected.
“You should stay until we confirm—”
“I’ll get her.”
Eleanor watched him.
“Don’t accuse her.”
He laughed.
“You think I need communication advice right now?”
“Yes.”
He stared at her.
Then, unexpectedly, nodded.
Vanessa was not at the bar.
She was in the ladies’ lounge near the ballroom, sitting on a velvet bench with her shoes off and her phone in her hand.
Adrian stopped in the doorway.
She looked up.
“You done getting adopted by the board?”
He ignored the line.
“Did you talk to a reporter?”
Vanessa’s expression sharpened.
“What?”
“Tonight. About the company.”
“No.”
“Before tonight?”
She stood.
“Why?”
“Vanessa.”
“Don’t use that tone.”
“What tone?”
“The one your mother uses.”
He rubbed his face.
“Did you tell anyone the board was removing her?”
“I told Madison there might be a leadership change.”
“Who is Madison?”
“You met her. She writes for Avenue Ledger.”
Adrian stared.
“You told a journalist?”
“She’s my friend.”
“She’s a journalist.”
“Those things can both be true.”
“What exactly did you say?”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“That you might finally get a real role.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I don’t remember every word.”
“You remember every word anyone says about you.”
Her face changed.
“That’s cute.”
“Did you say the board was removing my mother?”
“I said there were people who thought she’d held on too long.”
“Who?”
“Walter.”
“Walter never said that.”
“He didn’t have to.”
Adrian laughed in disbelief.
Vanessa’s eyes narrowed.
“Oh, please. You said the exact same thing.”
“I said I thought—”
“Yes. You thought. And I believed you. Sorry for the crime.”
He lowered his voice.
“They may have to issue a public correction.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“About what?”
“About me representing board decisions.”
“You didn’t represent anything.”
“They have the emails.”
“What emails?”
He looked away.
The realization came slowly.
“You emailed people without telling me.”
“I emailed shareholders.”
“Why?”
“To make sure they knew what was happening.”
“But you didn’t know what was happening.”
He turned back.
“Apparently not.”
Vanessa picked up her shoes.
For the first time since he met her, she looked tired rather than polished.
Her mascara had smudged slightly beneath one eye.
“You want this to be my fault.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You came in here asking whether I talked to a reporter.”
“Because someone did.”
“You talked to three.”
“How do you know?”
She laughed.
“You told me.”
Adrian had forgotten.
The stupidity of that silenced him.
Vanessa slipped on one shoe, then the other.
“You know what your problem is?”
He leaned against the doorframe.
“I’m sure I’m about to.”
“You keep needing one woman to be the reason your life feels wrong.”
His jaw tightened.
“Don’t.”
“First your mother controls everything. Now I told a reporter. Next it’ll be Priya because she took your imaginary job.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, Adrian, it’s extremely fair.”
He stepped into the room.
“You encouraged me.”
“Yes.”
“You told me this company was mine.”
“I told you to stop acting like you had to apologize for existing.”
“That’s not the same sentence.”
“No. But you heard what you wanted.”
The line stopped him.
It was almost exactly what Walter had said.
Vanessa saw the recognition.
Her expression softened for a second, then hardened again.
“I loved your confidence when we met,” she said. “Do you know that?”
He did not answer.
“You walked into a room like you belonged there. I thought, finally, a man who doesn’t need permission.”
She looked down at her hands.
“Then I figured out half your confidence is you waiting for someone to certify that you matter.”
Adrian swallowed.
“You’re very good at hurting people when you’re angry.”
“So are you.”
They stood in silence.
Through the wall came distant applause from the ballroom. Someone had apparently begun the foundation awards despite the family implosion.
Vanessa looked toward the sound.
“This is so embarrassing.”
Adrian almost said, For you?
He stopped himself.
A small victory.
“Did Madison publish anything?”
“No.”
“Can you text her?”
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“You want me to clean it up.”
“Yes.”
“At least you said it.”
He looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He started answering and realized the list was too long.
Vanessa watched him fail.
“That’s what I thought.”
Still, she took out her phone.
Madison replied that she had called the company communications office but had no story and no intention of writing one without confirmation.
Vanessa showed Adrian.
He exhaled.
“Thank you.”
She put the phone away.
“Are we engaged?”
The question came without warning.
Adrian blinked.
“What?”
“You let me call myself your fiancée in there.”
“I didn’t exactly have time—”
“That’s not an answer.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
They had discussed marriage for months in the vague future tense wealthy couples sometimes used when they were emotionally committed but administratively evasive.
Vanessa had begun wearing a diamond ring Adrian gave her for their anniversary. It was not officially an engagement ring.
People assumed.
Neither corrected them.
“I love you,” he said.
She looked at him.
“That is also not an answer.”
He almost laughed.
He did not.
“I don’t know.”
Vanessa nodded once.
“Okay.”
“Vanessa.”
“No. That’s actually useful.”
She picked up her clutch.
“I’m going home.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.”
“Can we not do this tonight?”
“This happened tonight.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He had no answer.
She walked past him.
At the doorway she stopped.
“Your mother scares me.”
Adrian turned.
Vanessa looked almost embarrassed to admit it.
“Why?”
“Because she doesn’t need anyone in the room to like her.”
“That’s not true.”
“I know. That’s why it’s worse.”
She left.
Adrian returned to the Hawthorne Room alone.
Eleanor knew from his face that something had changed.
She did not ask.
Denise confirmed the reporter was not publishing.
Harold suggested postponing the rest of the discussion.
May you like
Priya agreed.
Walter wanted to discuss the executive transition anyway, which caused Denise to tell him, “Absolutely not,” with enough force that Lawrence laughed.
