Part 7
She did not move.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“We can talk here.”
“Not in front of them.”
Naomi looked at Vivian.
Then at Daniel’s phone on the side table.
Then at Adrian.
“I’m not going upstairs with you.”
He stared at her.
“You were staying here ten minutes ago.”
“That was before I learned you used my company to invoice her property and lied about the financing.”
“You signed those invoices.”
“Because you told me she approved them.”
“Do not pretend you were a child.”
“I’m not.”
Naomi’s voice sharpened.
“I knew you were married. I knew the relationship was wrong. I knew she did not want me here when she told me to leave. Those are mine. The false ownership structure is yours.”
Adrian looked at her with open contempt.
“You think separating the sins makes you clean?”
“No.”
Naomi swallowed.
“I think it makes the records accurate.”
Vivian watched her.
There was courage in the distinction, but not redemption. Naomi seemed to know that.
Adrian turned away.
He walked upstairs with Lillian several paces behind him.
The sound of his shoes faded above the salon.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Harold checked his watch.
“I’ll call the doctor.”
He left with the second security employee.
Daniel retrieved his phone from the table and stopped the recording.
The briefcase remained in his right hand.
Vivian sat again.
Her body had waited for the immediate threat to leave before admitting how hard her knees were shaking.
Daniel crouched at a respectful distance.
“You did well.”
“I don’t want a performance review.”
“Understood.”
He stood.
Naomi remained near the windows.
She looked smaller without Adrian beside her, though nothing about her posture had collapsed. Her low bun was still neat. The burgundy gown still fit perfectly. She appeared not remorseful so much as stripped of a role.
Vivian pressed her tongue against the inside of her lip.
The cut stung.
“Why did you come today?” she asked.
Naomi looked at her.
“I told you. I thought you had agreed to leave for a few days.”
“That is not why you wore an evening gown at four in the afternoon.”
A faint flush rose along Naomi’s neck.
“There was an investor dinner.”
“In my dining room.”
“Yes.”
“And afterward?”
Naomi looked toward the tall windows.
“Adrian said you would stay with your mother until papers were signed.”
“What papers?”
“Separation documents.”
“He told you I had agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“And when I told you to get out?”
Naomi’s hand tightened around her opposite wrist.
“I believed you had changed your mind.”
Vivian waited.
Naomi looked at the blood at her mouth.
“That was convenient,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I wanted to believe him.”
“Yes.”
Naomi’s eyes grew wet, but she did not cry.
“I had put money into the company. I turned down two other contracts. My name was on the design package. He told me the house would become the first property in a national portfolio. He said you hated living here and wanted a smaller place.”
“I never said that.”
“I know.”
“You know now.”
“Yes.”
Vivian leaned back against the leather.
The sofa gave a familiar creak. Her aunt used to complain about that sound and then refuse to replace the furniture because the leather had finally become comfortable.
“Did you love him?” Vivian asked.
Daniel glanced at her, perhaps surprised by the question.
Naomi was more surprised.
“I thought so.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Naomi took time before answering.
“Yes.”
Vivian believed her.
The truth did not reduce the harm. It made the affair less easy to dismiss as appetite. Naomi had not merely taken something shiny. She had attached hope to a man who built hope out of other people’s assets.
“Do you still?” Vivian asked.
“I don’t know who he is.”
“You knew enough.”
Naomi nodded.
“Yes.”
The answer irritated Vivian more than an excuse would have. Naomi’s willingness to accept blame arrived only after the plan stopped benefiting her.
“Do not mistake agreeing with me for making this right,” Vivian said.
“I don’t.”
“What do you want?”
“My bag is upstairs.”
“You want permission to retrieve it?”
“I want my laptop. It has company records.”
Daniel spoke.
“Do not remove or alter records relevant to the financing or invoices.”
Naomi looked at him.
“Are you telling me I’m under investigation?”
“I am telling you that deleting records could worsen your position. Preserve everything. Obtain your own attorney. Do not rely on Mr. Vale’s counsel.”
She absorbed the warning.
“Can I copy my personal files?”
“Not from this property today,” Vivian said.
Naomi turned toward her.
“The laptop is mine.”
“It may contain records connected to unauthorized charges against my company.”
“You cannot keep it.”
“I am not keeping it forever. You may retrieve it through counsel after a preservation process.”
Naomi looked at Daniel.
He said, “That is a reasonable temporary arrangement. You can contest it through your lawyer.”
She laughed weakly.
“Everyone keeps telling me to get a lawyer.”
Daniel’s expression did not change.
“That is because you need one.”
Naomi looked toward the staircase.
“What if Adrian takes it?”
“Ms. Ross is with him,” Vivian said. “Harold will secure the room.”
Naomi nodded once.
She walked to a chair and sat, carefully arranging the burgundy skirt around her knees. The posture was composed. Her hands were not.
Vivian watched them shake.
She felt no satisfaction.
She had expected revenge to be warmer.
Instead, the room seemed full of waste.
An hour earlier, Adrian and Naomi had stood over her as if the future were settled. Now Adrian was packing beneath supervision, Naomi was calculating legal exposure, and Vivian was waiting for a doctor to photograph a cut made by the man who once held ice against her face after dental surgery.
May you like
No one had won anything.
Daniel finally shifted the briefcase from his right side to a position directly in front of his right leg, still holding the rigid handle in the same hand.
