Chương 10
“Then Marisol.”
Daniel called Marisol.
Twenty minutes later, Vivienne came down with two suitcases. She had changed into black trousers and a sweater. Her engagement ring remained on her finger.
At the door, she paused beside the faintly cleaned place where the wine had been.
“You believe the camera because it asks nothing from you,” she said. “People are harder.”
Then she left.
Daniel stood in the entrance hall after the car disappeared.
On the staircase table, one white orchid remained beneath the edge of the console. Someone cleaning the floor had missed it. The petals were bruised brown.
He picked it up and carried it to the trash.
The next morning, Nora found a black sedan parked outside Lark & Stem.
Vivienne sat in the back seat.
Nora considered walking past. Vivienne lowered the window.
“Five minutes,” she said.
“No.”
“Then I’ll come inside.”
Nora looked at the shop windows. Jo stood behind the counter pretending not to watch.
“What do you want?”
“To correct a misunderstanding.”
“There are a lot of those around you.”
Vivienne accepted the remark with a small nod. “Get in.”
“No.”
“It’s raining.”
Only then did Nora notice the fine mist collecting on her hair.
She stayed on the sidewalk.
Vivienne glanced toward the photographers across the street. One raised a camera.
“Your choice,” she said.
Nora opened the door and got into the car.
The interior smelled faintly of leather and gardenia. Vivienne wore dark glasses despite the gray morning. A folder rested on the seat between them.
“I did not access your email,” she said.
Nora looked at the folder. “Congratulations.”
“I also did not alter the invoice.”
“You told Luis to upload it.”
“I directed staff to process an approved allocation.”
“Approved by whom?”
“The event budget had surplus funds.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Vivienne removed her glasses. Her eyes were bloodshot.
“Daniel has probably told you there is an investigation.”
“He hasn’t told me anything.”
“Good. Perhaps he finally listened to counsel.”
Nora reached for the door handle.
“Wait.”
Vivienne placed two fingers on the folder.
“Your company is in financial trouble.”
Nora turned back slowly.
“Most small vendors are,” Vivienne continued. “Lark and Stem lost a major hotel account. Your workroom lease renews in September. Jo has been using a personal credit line for payroll.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because businesses seeking foundation contracts submit financial disclosures.”
Nora had prepared those forms. She remembered the bank statements, the revenue summary, the explanation Jo wrote about the lost account.
“You used confidential information to threaten us.”
“I’m not threatening you. I’m explaining reality.”
“Your version of it.”
“The only version that will matter in three months.”
Vivienne opened the folder.
Inside was an employment offer from a luxury hospitality group Nora recognized. The salary was nearly twice what she earned at Lark & Stem. The title was senior floral operations manager. Health insurance, paid leave, retirement contributions.
Nora read the first page twice.
“This company belongs to your friend.”
“It belongs to a public corporation.”
“The regional director sits on your board.”
“She knows your work.”
“She knows my work because you sent it to her.”
“Yes.”
The direct answer unsettled Nora.
Vivienne said, “The position is real. It has been open for six weeks.”
“What do you want?”
“For you to tell the truth.”
“I already did.”
“You said I added fraudulent charges. You don’t know that. You know a revised invoice was sent to you and that I asked you to process it.”
“You told Luis to say we requested the changes.”
“According to Luis.”
“I heard enough.”
“You heard a frightened employee protecting himself.”
“And the wine?”
Vivienne looked toward the rain-streaked window.
“I was angry.”
The admission was quiet.
Nora waited.
Vivienne continued, “You spoke to me with contempt in my fiancé’s home, in front of staff.”
“I told you the invoice was false.”
“You enjoyed telling me no.”
Nora almost denied it.
Then she remembered the clean satisfaction of saying, I’m certain about that invoice.
“Maybe,” she said.
Vivienne looked surprised.
Nora added, “That doesn’t make what you did an accident.”
“No.”
Another admission.
The car felt smaller.
Vivienne folded her hands in her lap. “I wanted to embarrass you. I did not plan for the wine to spill that far, and I did not expect Daniel to return at that moment.”
“You expected me to take the blame.”
“I expected the incident to disappear.”
“Because I would.”
“Because everyone would.”
Nora stared at her.
There was no apology in Vivienne’s face. There was something stranger: fatigue at being required to explain a system she believed Nora should already understand.
“What does the job have to do with telling the truth?” Nora asked.
“You accept the position. You issue a statement that the billing disagreement was outside your expertise and that the spill followed a tense interaction in which both of us behaved poorly.”
“I was carrying flowers.”
“You accused me publicly.”
“After you blamed me.”
“We can argue sequence forever.”
“No, we can watch it.”
Vivienne’s jaw tightened.
Nora looked again at the salary. It would cover the apartment without Ellen decorating cupcakes at midnight. It would allow Nora to replace the car instead of listening for new sounds every time she started it. She could go to a dentist before pain made the decision for her.
“What happens to Jo?” she asked.
“Lark and Stem receives its payment. The foundation renews its preferred vendor status for one year.”
“And the investigation?”
“It continues without your speculation becoming evidence.”
“My emails are evidence.”
“Your interpretation of them is not.”
Nora closed the folder.
“You’re asking me to make myself unreliable.”
“I’m asking you to be precise.”
“You mean harmless.”
Vivienne leaned back. “Do you imagine Daniel will protect you when this becomes inconvenient?”
“I’m not asking him to.”
May you like
“You already depend on his camera.”
Nora thought of the security recording, the correction he sent without permission, the dress that arrived cleaned and useless.
