Chương 6
“What should I do about the transfer?”
“I cannot decide that for you. I can tell you not to send money before reviewing your guarantee and receiving accurate financials.”
“Employees may miss payroll.”
“That is pressure, not legal advice.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because you sound like someone trying to turn guilt into a spreadsheet.”
Mark looked down at his coffee.
Maya sat back.
Nia’s voice softened. “Your father is allowed to ask for help. He is not allowed to make informed consent impossible and then blame you for the consequences.”
“What if the company collapses?”
“Then we determine what obligations are actually yours. Not what your family has trained you to believe is yours.”
Nia asked Maya to send every document she had. Her retainer would be five thousand dollars.
Maya agreed.
After the call, Mark went to the sink and washed the breakfast plate that had been there since the previous day. He scrubbed too hard.
“You think I’m still going to give them the money,” he said.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“That is not the same answer you gave last night.”
“Last night I didn’t know eighteen people might miss payroll.”
“You knew.”
“I knew George said it.”
“And now Rosa said it.”
“Yes.”
He set the plate in the drying rack. “They have employees because they run a business. That does not make you the emergency government.”
“I signed the guarantee.”
“That was a mistake.”
“Thank you.”
“You want me to pretend it wasn’t?”
“I want you not to enjoy being right.”
He turned.
“I do not enjoy any of this.”
“Sometimes you do.”
His face tightened.
Maya regretted the sentence as soon as it left her mouth, but regret did not make it false. Mark had disliked Helen and George from the beginning. Every new cruelty confirmed his judgment, and confirmation brought a hard satisfaction he tried to hide.
He dried his hands.
“You’re right,” he said.
The quick admission irritated her more.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Agree before I can be angry.”
He leaned against the counter. “Would you prefer I defend myself badly?”
“I would prefer you stop treating me like the last person to notice my family.”
“I don’t.”
“You do. You look at me like I need to be rescued from a burning building I keep decorating.”
Mark stared at her.
“That is not fair.”
“No.”
“Is it what you believe?”
Maya looked down at the transfer instructions on the screen.
“I don’t know.”
He picked up his keys.
“Where are you going?”
“For a walk.”
“Mark.”
“I am angry, and you have asked me not to fix anything. Walking is the one remaining activity.”
The door closed behind him.
Maya sat alone in the kitchen until the bakery’s lunch crowd began moving beneath the floorboards.
At 11:47, George sent a message.
Bank deadline is noon. Decide whether you are part of this family.
Maya read it, placed the phone face down, and watched the clock change to twelve.
She did not transfer the money.
By two, the wedding video had escaped the circle of guests. A local lifestyle account reposted it with the caption WEDDING TOAST FROM HELL. Clara’s employer issued a brief statement saying the remarks did not represent the company’s values. The regional arts foundation removed Helen’s photograph from its leadership page while it reviewed the matter.
Maya’s name trended locally for three hours.
Strangers called her brave for walking out. Others criticized her for letting Mark “control” her. One person slowed the footage and claimed Maya had smirked before Helen spoke. A body-language expert posted an analysis of George’s nod.
Maya watched none of it after the first hour.
Her supervisor, Karen Patel, called at four.
“I’m not asking about the wedding,” Karen said.
“Thank you.”
“I’m asking whether you have an undisclosed financial relationship with Calder Architectural Millwork.”
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“I disclosed the consulting work.”
“You disclosed occasional tax preparation for a family-owned business. You did not disclose a personal guarantee.”
“I didn’t think it affected my work.”
“Calder has bid on projects financed by two of our clients.”
“I’ve never touched those engagements.”
“I believe you. Compliance will still ask.”
Maya pressed her palm against the table.
“Am I suspended?”
“Not today. Send me every disclosure form you filed and do not access any Calder-related material through our systems.”
“I never have.”
“I know.”
Karen paused.
“For whatever it is worth, I am sorry about what happened last night.”
Maya swallowed.
“Thank you.”
“Take Monday off.”
“I don’t need—”
“That was not a suggestion. You are not coming in while reporters are calling reception.”
“Reporters?”
“One. Maybe a blogger. Nobody can tell anymore.”
After the call, Maya found Mark sitting on the building’s back steps with a paper cup of coffee gone cold between his hands.
She sat beside him.
He looked at her wrinkled jeans.
“You changed.”
“Observant.”
“I was trying for neutral.”
“Keep practicing.”
A delivery truck blocked the alley while a driver argued with the bakery manager about where to unload flour. Neither man seemed interested in compromise.
Maya told Mark about the compliance call.
He listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he said, “What do you need?”
The question nearly broke her.
“Not what do you want to do?”
“No.”
“Not what should I do?”
“No.”
She looked at the delivery driver, who had finally begun stacking fifty-pound bags on a hand truck.
“I need the records.”
“Then we get the records.”
“How?”
“Your attorney.”
“My father can delay.”
“Rosa?”
“She can access operations, not bank statements.”
“Internal bookkeeper?”
“I don’t know who that is anymore.”
Mark rubbed his thumb over the black ring. “Eli called me.”
Maya turned.
“When?”
“While I was walking.”
“Why does Eli have your number?”
“I gave it to him at the rehearsal dinner because he wanted to take us climbing.”
“What did he say?”
“He wanted to know whether you were safe.”
May you like
“That sounds like Eli.”
“He also wanted to know why Clara kept saying you had ruined everything.”
