Chương 9
That part he admitted.
He had then asked his father about Madeline Cross.
His father told him not to worry about it.
Adrian worried.
He searched Madeline online.
He learned where she worked.
He learned what boards she served on.
He attended the museum dinner.
The fact came from an email Adrian himself eventually forwarded.
His father had written:
Leave the Cross thing alone. Girl has no idea and David signed what he signed.
Adrian had replied:
I want to see what she knows.
The email was dated nineteen days before he met Madeline.
She printed it.
Then she sat at her desk for almost an hour without touching anything.
At five forty, Caroline appeared in the doorway.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“Go home.”
“I have a donor meeting.”
“I canceled it.”
“You can’t cancel my meeting.”
“I run the museum.”
“Unfortunately.”
Caroline walked in and sat across from her.
“Are you sleeping?”
“Yes.”
“That was fast.”
“Badly.”
“Better.”
Madeline looked at the printed email.
Caroline did not ask to see it.
Instead she picked up a paper clip from Madeline’s desk and bent it straight.
“You know,” she said, “my first husband had an affair with a woman who taught him pottery.”
Madeline blinked.
“What?”
“I have no idea why I’m telling you this.”
“Neither do I.”
“He became unbearable about bowls.”
Madeline laughed.
Caroline kept straightening the paper clip.
“The worst part was that after I left him, I still missed him when the boiler broke.”
Madeline’s smile disappeared.
“Why?”
“He knew boilers.”
Madeline looked down.
Caroline put the ruined paper clip on the desk.
“People are irritating that way. They don’t become worthless just because they hurt you.”
“No.”
“Which is inconvenient.”
“Yes.”
“But missing what was useful is not the same as wanting it back.”
Madeline nodded.
Caroline stood.
“And if you repeat any of this, I’ll deny it.”
“Especially the pottery.”
“Especially the pottery.”
That evening Adrian was waiting across the street from Madeline’s building.
He did not approach until she saw him.
Then he lifted one hand.
Madeline could have walked inside.
Instead she crossed to him.
He looked thinner.
She resented noticing.
“Five minutes,” she said.
They walked to a small park nearby.
Children were playing basketball under lights. A dog barked at a stroller.
Adrian sat on a bench.
Madeline remained standing.
“You sent the email,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you should have it.”
“You could have deleted it.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He looked toward the basketball court.
“I keep everything.”
“That sounds healthy.”
He smiled faintly.
She hated the familiarity of it.
“Was it money?” she asked.
“At first?”
“Yes.”
“Risk.”
“That’s not money?”
“Not exactly.”
“Explain.”
Adrian rubbed his hands together against the cold.
“My father built the company by treating every unresolved thing as a threat. Lawsuit, contract, former partner, employee, investor. You don’t wait. You find out who they are, what they know, what they want.”
“So you found me.”
“Yes.”
“And decided to date me.”
“No.”
Madeline laughed.
He looked at her.
“I decided to meet you.”
“That’s better?”
“No.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because it’s true.”
She sat at the other end of the bench.
Adrian looked straight ahead.
“The night we met, I planned to speak to you for ten minutes. I thought I would figure out whether you knew anything about the investment.”
“And then?”
“You spilled water on the donor list.”
Madeline looked at him.
“You remember.”
“Of course I remember.”
“Did you know I hated Renaissance portraits before you asked?”
“No.”
“Did you know where I went to college?”
“Yes.”
“My father’s name?”
“Yes.”
“My mother’s?”
“Yes.”
“My birthday?”
“Yes.”
She looked away.
“So the whole conversation was a test.”
“The first five minutes.”
“And then?”
“You were funny.”
“That’s your defense?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Adrian rubbed his thumb across his palm.
“I liked you.”
“You didn’t know me.”
“I wanted to.”
“Why didn’t you stop when you realized I knew nothing about the trust?”
He did not answer.
Madeline looked at him.
“That should have ended it.”
“Yes.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
His mouth tightened.
“Because I wanted something that had nothing to do with my father.”
Madeline was silent.
Adrian laughed once.
“I hear how convenient that sounds.”
“It sounds like something you’ve practiced.”
“I’ve practiced everything I’ve said to you for two weeks.”
That honesty startled her.
He looked at her.
“I keep thinking there is a sentence that will make this less ugly.”
“There isn’t.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I’m getting there.”
A basketball struck the fence behind them.
Adrian flinched.
Madeline almost smiled.
“Why the ring?” she asked.
He stared at the pavement.
“Celeste had told me what Joanna wanted.”
“That I should get it at thirty.”
“Yes.”
“You had seven months.”
“I know.”
“You could have waited.”
“I know.”
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
“You could have given it to me without proposing.”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
Adrian looked up.
“Because I wanted the story.”
Madeline felt something inside her become very quiet.
“What story?”
“That it had found its way back to you. That I had found you. That maybe all of it meant something other than what it meant.”
She stared at him.
He continued before she could speak.
“I knew it was manipulative.”
“When?”
“When I did it.”
“Not afterward.”
“No.”
The cold seemed sharper.
“Why would you admit that?”
“Because you already know.”
“No. I suspected.”
Adrian looked exhausted.
“There is nothing I can say that makes me the man you thought I was.”
Madeline folded her hands in her lap.
“Did you love Celeste?”
“Yes.”
“Did you marry her for money?”
He did not answer.
She waited.
“At first, partly.”
Madeline closed her eyes.
“You have a type.”
“I know.”
“Women with money?”
“Women who know how to live without me.”
She looked at him.
For the first time, his expression held no calculation she could see.
May you like
That did not mean none existed.
“My mother had money,” Adrian said. “My father controlled it. Then she left. He told everyone she was unstable. I learned early that if you can explain somebody first, you get to decide who people think they are.”
