Chương 3
“You said there wouldn’t be yelling,” she told him.
“There wasn’t much.”
“The man in the red face yelled at the security people.”
“That was before.”
“And you hit the table.”
“I hit the invitation on the table.”
“That’s not better for the table.”
“No.”
Rosie considered him. “Are we in trouble?”
“Probably.”
“With Ms. Cross?”
“Not with Ms. Cross.”
“With your work?”
Nathan sat back on one heel.
The honest answer was yes.
Cross Aeromedical employed nearly four thousand people across three Ohio facilities, and Nathan was the director responsible for moving components, finished devices, and emergency orders between all of them. He had worked there for six years. Adeline Cross signed his promotion. She had also attended his wife’s funeral, stood near the back, and left before he could thank her.
He had not thought about his job when he saw Julian reach for the invitation.
That was the problem.
Nathan usually thought about consequences until the moment for action had passed. His late wife, Emily, had called it his talent for building a fence around every possible future.
Tonight he had acted first.
He looked at Rosie’s anxious face.
“We might have to explain ourselves.”
“To the police?”
“No.”
“To Grandpa?”
“Unfortunately.”
Rosie relaxed slightly. Nathan’s father believed every social problem could be corrected with a firm handshake, a handwritten note, or a lawn mower returned in better condition than it had been borrowed.
“Can we go to our room?” she asked.
“Soon.”
“I’m hungry.”
“You ate.”
“I ate a roll.”
“You had chicken.”
“It had green stuff.”
“It was parsley.”
“It looked intentional.”
Nathan laughed once, quietly.
The ballroom door opened, and Adeline stepped into the hall with Mara.
For a moment, Adeline looked less like the woman whose face appeared in business magazines and annual reports. Her posture had softened. A strand of blonde hair had fallen forward near one diamond earring. She appeared tired, cornered, and irritated by the fact that anyone might notice.
Rosie walked to her.
“You kept it?”
Adeline opened her clutch and showed her the folded invitation.
“I kept it.”
“The tape got wet.”
“It’s holding.”
Rosie nodded, satisfied.
Nathan stood. “I should get her upstairs.”
Adeline looked at him. “Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
He felt it, and she knew he felt it.
Mara looked between them. “We should all get upstairs before someone decides a hallway photo is useful.”
A door opened farther down the corridor. Two guests emerged, talking in urgent whispers. One recognized Adeline and immediately pretended to study the carpet.
Nathan took Rosie’s hand again.
The four of them walked toward the elevators.
No one spoke until the doors closed.
Mara pressed the button for the eleventh floor.
Rosie watched the numbers light.
“Is the bride still getting married?” she asked.
Mara said, “That is a very good question.”
Adeline leaned against the elevator wall. “She shouldn’t.”
Nathan looked at her.
Adeline’s eyes stayed on the floor numbers.
“I don’t mean because of the invitation,” she said. “Not only that.”
The elevator stopped at seven. An elderly couple in formal clothes waited outside. When they saw the occupants, the husband gave a startled cough.
“We’ll take the next one,” his wife said.
The doors closed again.
Mara pulled out her phone.
“You have fourteen messages from the board chair.”
“It’s been six minutes.”
“He’s efficient when terrified.”
Adeline held out her hand.
Mara did not give her the phone.
“No.”
“Mara.”
“You are going to read them, become furious, call him, and say something accurate but disastrous.”
“I pay you.”
“You pay me to prevent exactly this.”
Nathan looked toward the ceiling to hide the beginning of a smile.
Adeline noticed. “You find this amusing?”
“No.”
“You are smiling.”
“I’m breathing strangely.”
Rosie said, “He does that when he wants to laugh.”
Nathan looked down at her. “Thank you.”
“You said honesty matters.”
“Selective honesty also has value.”
The elevator doors opened.
They crossed a carpeted corridor to Adeline’s suite.
Inside, the remains of the hour before the ceremony were everywhere. An untouched room-service tray sat beside the window. Adeline’s ivory jacket had been draped over a chair and then retrieved in such haste that the hanger remained on the floor. Two halves of the invitation’s outer envelope lay beside a small roll of clear tape.
Nathan saw the indentation in the carpet where Rosie had knelt to repair the card.
Adeline walked to the window.
Below them, Columbus traffic moved along wet streets. Red brake lights stretched through the dark in patient lines. The city did not care that a wedding had stopped eleven floors beneath it.
Mara locked the door.
Nathan said, “We’re going.”
Adeline turned. “You should.”
The second dismissal hurt more than the first.
He told himself it was sensible. Her board was calling. Julian had threatened her. Nathan was an employee who had publicly confronted a major investor at a high-profile wedding while holding his daughter’s hand.
He should have wanted distance too.
Rosie wandered toward the room-service tray. “Can I have the little butter?”
“Not by itself,” Nathan said.
She looked offended. “I was going to use bread.”
“There is no bread left.”
“There are crackers.”
“Those are not bread.”
“They’re bread after an accident.”
Mara opened the tray and found a wrapped roll beneath a napkin. She handed it to Rosie.
“Take the butter too.”
Nathan sighed. “You’re undermining me.”
“I’ve had a difficult evening.”
Rosie sat at the small dining table and began peeling the foil from the butter.
Adeline’s phone rang in Mara’s hand.
Mara glanced at the screen. “Board chair again.”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Mara.”
Nathan said, “Maybe you should answer.”
Both women looked at him.
He raised his hands. “Or not.”
Adeline crossed the room and took the phone before Mara could move.
“Robert,” she said.
She listened.
May you like
Her posture changed first. Her shoulders drew back. Her free hand settled against the edge of the desk.
“No,” she said. “That is not what happened.”
