Chương 8
She had called it love.
At one thirty, he arrived without warning.
He wore jeans and the same white dress shirt from the wedding. His hair had dried in the shape his fingers had pushed it.
Margaret opened the door but did not step aside.
“Why are you here?”
“Because you won’t answer.”
“I was preparing for a board meeting.”
“I need ten minutes.”
“You said that when you wanted the Redwood proposal reconsidered.”
“This is not a proposal.”
“No.”
He looked past her into the hall.
“Are you going to make me stand outside?”
She considered it.
Then she moved.
In the kitchen, he saw the cold soup on the counter and put it back in the microwave. The familiarity of the action annoyed her.
“Sit,” he said.
“It is my house.”
“I know. Sorry.”
He heated the soup and set it in front of her. Then he sat opposite, leaving the table’s full width between them.
“Natalie says she went into your suite to leave a letter,” he said.
“You told me.”
“She says the note you found isn’t hers.”
“You told me that too.”
“She thinks one of the bridesmaids may have written it as a joke.”
“Which bridesmaid?”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Did she ask them?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“They denied it.”
Margaret picked up the spoon.
“What do you believe?”
Jackson looked at the table.
“I believe Ethan heard something.”
“Something.”
“I believe Natalie knew too much about his incident report.”
“That is not a belief. It is a fact.”
“I believe the note looks like her handwriting.”
Margaret tasted the soup. It was too salty.
“And?”
He rubbed his thumb against the edge of his wedding ring.
“I don’t know if I can believe she put it there.”
“Why?”
“Because then I have to believe I married someone who wanted to hurt you.”
“She may have wanted only to hurt me for one minute.”
“That’s supposed to be better?”
“No.”
He turned the ring once.
“Natalie says you were cruel to her for months.”
Margaret set down the spoon.
“Was I?”
“You questioned every wedding expense.”
“I paid for the wedding.”
“You corrected her in front of people.”
“When?”
“She called the family foundation a charity. You said it was a private foundation.”
“It is.”
“You see? You always have the technically correct answer.”
Margaret leaned back.
“What answer would you prefer?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the human one.”
The accusation would have been easier to dismiss if it had been entirely false.
Margaret remembered a lunch in March when Natalie described plans for a Westbrook literacy campaign. She had used the phrase brand activation three times. Margaret had asked whether she had ever visited the program’s neighborhood sites. Natalie had said she planned to. Margaret had replied, “Before or after the photographers?”
Jackson had been at the table.
He had stared at his plate.
“I did not like her,” Margaret said.
He looked up.
“I tried to.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you loved her.”
“So you smiled, paid for everything, and kept a list?”
“I did not keep a list.”
“You never have to. You remember every mistake anyone makes.”
Margaret touched her scalp where a headache had begun.
“Do you think she wrote the note because I corrected her grammar?”
“I think people do ugly things when they feel judged.”
“So do you.”
He winced.
She regretted the sentence and did not withdraw it.
Jackson stood and walked to the window over the sink. Beyond the glass, the sprinkler continued its slow rotation.
“Northgate wants payment in ten business days,” he said.
“How much can you pay?”
“Maybe one point four.”
“What assets?”
“The Austin property, if I can sell my interest.”
“Can you?”
“Not quickly.”
“Then you cannot count it.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He turned.
“I didn’t come here to ask you for money.”
“Why did you come?”
“I need the family office to confirm it never guaranteed the loan.”
“It will.”
“And I need the board not to accuse me of using confidential information before we know whether I did.”
Margaret stared at him.
“Whether you did?”
“I shared market forecasts. I don’t know which versions.”
“Were they public?”
“Some were.”
“And the others?”
“I have to review the emails.”
“You do not accidentally send confidential forecasts to a lender.”
“I was trying to establish credibility.”
“You used mine.”
The words left him quiet.
He sat again.
“I know how it looks.”
“How does it look?”
“Like I traded on the family name.”
“Did you?”
His eyes filled, though no tears fell.
“Yes.”
Margaret looked at the soup.
There was a small chip on the bowl’s rim. She had owned the set for twelve years and never noticed it.
Jackson’s voice softened.
“I thought I could make something without you.”
“So you borrowed against what you expected from me.”
“I know.”
“That is not independence.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because there isn’t another sentence.”
For a while, they listened to the sprinkler.
Then Margaret asked, “Did Natalie love you?”
He looked toward the backyard.
“She did.”
“Does she?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you love her?”
His thumb moved over the wedding ring again.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt more than Margaret expected. Not because she wanted it to be false, but because love had not protected any of them from becoming useful to one another.
“What will you do?” she asked.
“About what?”
“Your marriage.”
“I don’t know.”
“The debt?”
“I’ll negotiate.”
“The board?”
“I’ll tell the truth.”
“All of it?”
He looked at her.
“I don’t know what all of it is yet.”
That, at least, sounded honest.
The emergency board meeting lasted three hours.
Margaret joined from the library at home. Eleven faces appeared in small rectangles across her screen. Two directors had watched the viral video repeatedly. One had not watched it at all and made sure everyone knew.
May you like
The board’s concern was not Natalie’s note.
It was Jackson’s access to internal information, Northgate’s potential claims, and the possibility that the canceled transfer had been represented as certain to outside parties. The hotel group had planned a debt refinancing of its own in September. Public questions about governance could increase costs.
