Chương 4
“Hotel?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Eric followed me.
“Grant, stay out of this.”
Grant opened the door.
“I was invited in.”
“By my wife.”
“That’s generally how employment works.”
Even then, a ridiculous laugh moved somewhere inside my chest. It never reached my mouth.
On the front steps, warm wind lifted the ends of my hair. The garden lay beyond the west side of the mansion, hidden by hedges, but I could hear the guests leaving in waves. Car doors closed. Valets called surnames. The band members rolled equipment cases over the stone path.
Natalie stood near the fountain with the microphone still in her hand.
Paul had disappeared.
Linda sat alone at the table where he had left her.
My father walked toward her.
Mother remained inside.
Eric stopped behind me.
“Did you know before tonight?” he asked.
“About you and Natalie? Six weeks.”
His breath left him.
“Six weeks?”
“Yes.”
“And you planned this?”
“No. I planned to speak to you after the party.”
“Then why was he here?” He pointed at Grant. “Why did he have the report?”
“Because I didn’t trust Natalie to leave quietly, and because I didn’t trust you to tell me the truth once she started talking.”
“That isn’t fair.”
I turned.
His face crumpled slightly at my expression.
“Fair?”
“I would have told you.”
“You had six weeks.”
“I didn’t know you knew.”
“That is not the point.”
“It matters.”
“To you.”
He took a step closer.
“I was going to end it.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“After the anniversary?”
“Yes.”
“Before or after you cut the cake?”
He looked away.
There it was: the ordinary cowardice beneath the extraordinary betrayal. No master plan. No grand passion. Just postponement, self-protection, and the belief that tomorrow would continue offering what today had not required.
I got into Grant’s car.
Eric remained on the steps as we drove away.
For the first mile, Grant said nothing.
The city emerged slowly beyond the estate walls: traffic lights, a drugstore, a gas station with three pumps covered in yellow tape. People moved through an evening that had not changed for them. A man in running clothes waited with one foot on the curb. Two teenagers shared earbuds at a bus stop. A woman carried a bag of takeout against her chest.
Grant turned down the air-conditioning.
“You’re cold,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shivering.”
I looked at my hands. He was right.
He reached into the back seat, found a clean gray blanket, and passed it to me without comment.
The blanket smelled faintly of coffee.
I placed it over my lap.
“Did Paul know I would use the report tonight?”
“No.”
“Did he know you were attending?”
“Yes.”
“Why did he come?”
“He thought you were going to confront Eric privately after the reception.”
“Why didn’t he stay home?”
“His absence would have raised questions with Eric. Also, cowards often confuse showing up with behaving correctly.”
I looked out the window.
Grant adjusted his grip on the steering wheel.
“I’m not being judgmental,” he added.
“You are.”
“A little.”
A traffic light turned red.
He stopped.
“Was the report obtained legally?” I asked.
“Yes. Paul commissioned the test, paid for it, and provided his copy voluntarily. He signed a statement confirming authenticity.”
“Will he stand by it?”
Grant’s pause answered before he did.
“He intended to.”
“Before tonight.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“He may decide he has more to lose by admitting the truth.”
“Linda knows.”
“Knowing and proving are different.”
“Natalie looked at him.”
“In front of three hundred people. That matters socially. It does not establish paternity in court.”
“I’m not taking her to court.”
“She may take you.”
I turned toward him.
“For what?”
“Defamation. Invasion of privacy. Intentional infliction of emotional distress. Her lawyer may choose other language.”
“Her lawyer?”
“Natalie spoke to one last week.”
“How do you know?”
“She met him at the Harbor Club Tuesday afternoon.”
The light changed.
Grant drove on.
“She expected me to expose her?”
“She expected conflict. I don’t think she expected the report.”
“Then why consult a lawyer?”
“She appears to have planned to force Eric into acknowledging the relationship publicly. A legal consultation would help her understand what financial support she could claim if he accepted paternity.”
“He believed the baby was his.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since June.”
I pressed my thumbnail into the edge of the blanket.
“When did he start sleeping with her?”
Grant’s jaw shifted. He disliked questions whose answers caused pain even when pain was the reason he had been hired.
“Late March, based on the hotel records and messages Paul supplied.”
“Hotel records?”
“Eric used a corporate card twice. The accounting department flagged the charges because the hotel was local. He reimbursed the company.”
“Paul knew.”
“Paul noticed.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“At the time, Paul was also sleeping with Natalie.”
A billboard passed above us, advertising orthodontics with a family smiling in identical white shirts.
I stared at it until it disappeared.
“So she was with both of them.”
“Yes.”
“Did Eric know about Paul?”
“Not until tonight.”
“Did Paul know about Eric?”
“He suspected by May.”
“And said nothing.”
“He demanded a paternity test after Natalie told him she was pregnant.”
“When?”
“June seventeenth.”
My mind supplied the date without effort. Eric and I had eaten dinner on our back patio that night. He had grilled salmon and complained about the mosquitoes. At nine, he had received a message, read it, and turned his phone facedown.
I had asked whether everything was all right.
He had said, “Just Paul being Paul.”
The hotel lobby was quiet when we arrived. A television above the bar showed a baseball game with the sound muted. Grant waited while I checked in under my own name.
The desk clerk recognized me from the reception.
May you like
I saw it happen in her eyes.
She did not mention the video, but when she handed me the key card, she said, “I’m sorry your evening was difficult.”
