Chapter 3: The Announcement He Never Planned to Make
The CEO's name was Richard Holt.
I had never met him in person, but Nora had told me enough.
Sixty-two years old.
Built the company from eleven employees to four hundred.
Believed, above everything else, in loyalty.
He was still looking at me with that warm, expectant smile.
Grant hadn't moved.
"Actually, Richard," I said, "I've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.
Grant speaks very highly of you."
Richard shook my hand firmly.
"The feeling is mutual.
He's one of our best.
We're lucky to have him."
I felt Grant's eyes on the side of my face like heat.
"He is dedicated," I said.
"No one could question that."
The blonde had taken a small step back.
She wasn't sure what she'd walked into, but she was smart enough to feel the current running under the surface of the conversation.
Richard glanced at her briefly, politely, then back to me.
"And who is your friend?"
Grant opened his mouth.
"I'm not sure," I said pleasantly.
"Grant introduced us so quickly."
The silence that followed lasted exactly three seconds.
In a room full of professionals trained to read a room, three seconds is a very long time.
Richard's smile didn't disappear.
It simply became more careful.
"Well," he said.
"It's a wonderful evening.
I hope you enjoy it, Claire."
"I intend to," I said.
He moved on.
The moment he was gone, Grant stepped close to me, his voice dropping to something tight and controlled.
"What are you doing?"
"Attending my husband's company gala," I said.
"Is there a problem?"
"You need to leave."
"I have an invitation."
His eyes went to the document still folded in my hand.
"Where did you get that?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Claire." His jaw was working.
"Whatever you think you're going to do—"
"I'm not going to do anything," I said.
"Not tonight."
He went very still.
"I came to return something to you," I said.
I held the document out.
He didn't take it.
"You left it on your desk three weeks ago.
I found it when I was looking for the insurance papers after the boys came home from the hospital."
He still didn't move.
"It's the lease agreement," I said.
"For the apartment on Whitmore Street.
Twelve-month term.
Your signature.
Her name." I nodded almost imperceptibly toward the blonde, who had drifted toward the bar and was pretending to study the drink menu.
"I assume she knows she's listed as a co-tenant."
Grant's face had gone the color of old concrete.
"How long have you known?" he said.
"Long enough to make a plan," I said.
"Short enough that I still had to decide whether to use it."
"And have you?
Decided?"
I looked at him for a moment.
The man who had kissed my scar and said he could never look at me differently.
The man who had stood in our bedroom two weeks ago and told me I embarrassed him.
"I've decided a lot of things tonight," I said.
I folded the document back into my clutch.
"Enjoy your evening, Grant."
I walked toward the far side of the room, where Nora was waiting near the window with two glasses of sparkling water and an expression that said she had watched every second.
"How did he look?" she asked.
"Like a man who just realized the floor is made of glass," I said.
She handed me a glass.
"Good.
Because there's something I haven't told you yet."
I turned to look at her.
"The copy you sent," Nora said quietly.
"I delivered it personally.
To the right person." She paused.
May you like
"He's here tonight, Claire.
And he's already read it."
