Chương 3
For nearly a year, Mercer Lodging had negotiated quietly to acquire the controlling company.
Vanessa knew Mercer Lodging was interested.
She did not know Daniel had completed the purchase that morning.
He had not told her because the transaction was confidential until closing.
That was the practical reason.
The personal reason was uglier.
He had wanted one day in which Vanessa did not know something.
One thing she could not manage, reinterpret, or get ahead of.
Daniel had not felt good about that impulse.
He felt worse now because Lily had paid for the delay.
Security arrived without uniforms.
Peter Howard, Northstar’s director of operations, wore a navy sweater and the expression of a man who had received three incompatible instructions in five minutes.
Rachel had evidently told him enough.
He stopped near Daniel.
“Sir.”
Daniel disliked being called sir.
“Peter, Vanessa’s executive access is terminated under the transfer agreement. I need you to secure the office and preserve company devices, records, and files.”
Peter looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa stared back.
“This is a personal dispute,” she said.
Peter’s mouth tightened.
Daniel answered before he could.
“The employment action predates what just happened.”
Vanessa’s head snapped toward him.
That was true.
The termination document had been signed at 9:10 that morning.
The trophy had gone onto the hearth at 4:37 that afternoon.
Daniel had already intended to fire Vanessa.
He had simply planned to do it privately after the competition dinner.
For reasons that had nothing to do with Lily.
Vanessa knew that now.
Daniel watched the fact land.
“What have you done?” she said quietly.
He did not answer in the lounge.
“Peter, conference room.”
Vanessa pointed toward Lily.
“No. If you’re going to destroy my career because your daughter can’t handle criticism, say it in front of everyone.”
Lily’s shoulders pulled inward.
Daniel saw it.
“Stop.”
“There. That tone. You make every problem someone else’s fault and then act righteous when you clean it up.”
“Vanessa.”
“You spent two years drowning in grief, Daniel. I’m the one who put you back together.”
Margaret stepped between Vanessa and Lily.
“That’s enough.”
“No, Margaret. It isn’t. Your son has spent his entire life being rescued from consequences, and now he’s teaching his daughter the same thing.”
Daniel’s first impulse was to shout.
The second was to tell Vanessa every way she had miscalculated.
The third was the one he followed.
He walked to Lily.
“Do you want to stay here with Grandma, or come upstairs with me?”
Lily looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa looked back.
Lily lowered her eyes.
“Grandma.”
Daniel nodded.
“Okay.”
“I want to fix the plate.”
“We will.”
“Tonight?”
“If you want.”
She pressed the trophy closer.
“I do.”
Daniel touched the top of her braid.
Then he turned away from Vanessa.
That offended her more than anything else had.
“You don’t get to walk away from me.”
Daniel stopped.
He looked over his shoulder.
“I’m not.”
The conference room was one floor above the lounge.
Daniel, Vanessa, Peter, and Rachel took the service elevator because Daniel wanted to avoid the main lobby. Ethan came as far as the elevators before Margaret sent him back.
“You’re fifteen,” she told him.
“I saw it.”
“So did I.”
“I should say what happened.”
“You will if someone needs you to.”
“They’re going to make it sound different.”
Margaret studied him.
Ethan had been wary of Vanessa from the beginning.
Daniel used to attribute it to adolescence.
He had made that mistake more than once: assuming a young person’s discomfort was immaturity because that interpretation demanded less from him.
“What do you mean?” Margaret asked.
Ethan glanced down the corridor.
“She tells people stuff when nobody else is around.”
“What stuff?”
He shrugged.
That shrug was too fast.
Margaret’s throat tightened.
“What has she said to you?”
“Nothing.”
“Ethan.”
“I said nothing.”
He walked back toward the lounge.
Margaret did not follow immediately.
By the fireplace, Lily sat in a leather chair with the trophy on her knees. An employee had brought her a damp cloth.
She was cleaning the brass plate.
The soot came off the metal more easily than the wood.
Margaret sat beside her.
For a while they said nothing.
The room had resumed its normal volume in an exaggerated way. People spoke too casually. Glasses clinked. A waiter apologized twice for dropping a spoon.
Lily rubbed the corner of the plate.
“Grandma?”
“Yes?”
“Did Mom buy the judges?”
Margaret felt something inside her go cold.
“No.”
“You don’t know.”
“I do.”
“How?”
Margaret considered lying.
Not about Vanessa. About certainty.
Adults often gave children certainty because uncertainty was hard to watch.
“She didn’t know these judges,” Margaret said. “Your mother died before this competition. She couldn’t have bought them.”
Lily stared at the trophy.
“She could’ve told Dad to.”
“She didn’t.”
“But you don’t know everything they talked about.”
“No.”
Lily rubbed harder.
The cloth snagged on the loose screw.
Margaret took it gently from her.
“Sweetheart, winning doesn’t make Vanessa wrong, and losing wouldn’t make her right.”
Lily’s eyebrows pulled together.
Margaret smiled faintly.
“I said that badly.”
“A little.”
There she was.
A tiny piece of Lily.
Margaret let out a breath that almost became a laugh.
“What I mean is, you made your project. The judges made their decision. Your mother didn’t need to arrange anything for you.”
Lily looked toward the elevators.
“Why does Vanessa hate me?”
Margaret’s hand stopped.
“I don’t know that she does.”
“She does.”
“I think Vanessa hates feeling unimportant.”
Lily considered that.
“Am I important?”
“To your father?”
Lily nodded.
“More than anyone.”
“Then that’s the same thing.”
Margaret wished it were not.
Upstairs, Vanessa stood at the far end of the conference table while Peter disabled her access from a laptop.
The room looked over the ski runs.
Snow machines had begun working on the lower slope, throwing white mist into the blue-gray evening.
Daniel placed the red folder on the table.
May you like
Vanessa would not sit.
Peter cleared his throat.
