I changed my mind this afternoon.”
“Why?”
“Because I found something that belongs to you.”
I looked at Daniel.
“What did you find?”
“Money.”
Daniel turned and walked toward the ballroom doors.
I caught his sleeve.
He pulled free.
“Where?” I asked Marianne.
“In an account Daniel opened under an old company we used to own together.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“How much?”
“Enough that I think you need to stop whatever you’re paying for tonight.”
I heard traffic behind her.
“Where are you?”
“Ten minutes away.”
Daniel was staring at me now.
He had heard enough.
I ended the call.
“You contacted her?” he asked.
“She contacted me months ago.
You told me she was unstable, so I ignored her.”
His anger flashed.
“She is unstable.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“Because you seem terrified she’s about to walk through that door.”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Think about Vanessa.”
“I have thought about Vanessa for six years.”
“This will destroy her engagement.”
“No.
Whatever you did might destroy it.”
He leaned closer.
“Lucas’s family does not need to know our private finances.”
There it was.
Not remorse.
Reputation.
Daniel had always cared most about what respectable people believed.
He drove cars he could not afford, joined clubs he complained about paying for, and cultivated friendships with men whose wealth made him feel successful by association.
Lucas’s father ran an investment firm.
His mother sat on the board of a university hospital.
Daniel had spent months talking about how advantageous the marriage would be for Vanessa.
I finally understood what the engagement dinner really represented to him.
Access.
I slipped the papers back into the envelope.
“Go back inside,” I said.
“Claire—”
“Go smile for your important guests.”
He hesitated.
Then he did.
I walked to the manager’s office.
Mr.
Patel was waiting.
He was in his fifties, careful and professional, with the expression of a man who knew a beautiful evening was about to become an accounting nightmare.
“I spoke to our finance director,” he said.
“We can suspend any remaining charges immediately.”
“Please do.”
“There is one more issue.”
He placed a folder on the desk.
“The authorization emails did not come from your company domain.”
“I know.”
“They came from an address using your name.”
He turned the screen toward me.
I had never seen it.
“We traced the contact number attached to the account,” he said.
“It matches the number Daniel provided when he booked the rehearsal cruise.”
I felt no shock.
That frightened me more than shock would have.
I simply nodded.
“Can you print everything?”
“I already did.”
He handed me the folder.
When I returned to the pavilion, the string quartet had stopped playing.
Not because of me.
Vanessa had apparently decided to give a speech.
She stood near the dance floor with the microphone.
Lucas, her fiancé, was beside her.
He was thirty, quiet, observant, and far kinder than the social world Vanessa had built around herself.
I had always wondered what he saw in her.
As I entered, Vanessa noticed me.
Her voice sharpened.
“And apparently Claire has decided to rejoin us.”
More uncomfortable silence.
Lucas touched her arm.
“Vanessa, stop.”
She pulled away.
“No, everyone should know.
She’s spent years acting like she saved this family.”
Daniel moved toward her.
