Chapter 3: The Number I Didn't Recognize
I kept my face still.
Two hundred people were watching me.
Ellen Mercer was still standing.
Malcolm Reed had not sat back down.
Grant was three feet away with his hands at his sides and the particular stillness of a man who has just realized the ground under him is not solid.
I turned the phone face-down on the table.
"Mrs.
Waverly." Ellen's voice was careful.
"We came tonight expecting to finalize an agreement worth forty-three million dollars.
If there is a structural issue with the contract, Northstar needs to understand it tonight."
"There is no structural issue," Grant said.
"Claire is the co-founder, yes.
Her signature is required, yes.
And she will sign."
He looked at me when he said it.
Not with anger.
With certainty.
As though seven years of marriage had taught him exactly how much pressure it took to make me go quiet.
"Will she?" Malcolm said.
Grant didn't look away from me.
"She will."
I picked up the phone.
"Excuse me for one moment."
I stepped away from the microphone, toward the edge of the room where the catering staff had left a service door propped open.
The noise of the ballroom dropped behind me.
I stood in the narrow corridor between the kitchen and the event space and opened the message.
*I have the emails.
All of them.
The ones between Grant and Sabrina going back eighteen months.
The ones about the restructuring plan.
The ones about you.
If you want them before tomorrow morning, meet me at the Meridian Bar on Fourth.
I'll be there until midnight.
— D*
I read it twice.
Then I typed back: *Who are you?*
The reply came in under ten seconds.
*Someone who used to work for your husband.
Someone he thought he'd already taken care of.*
My hand was steady.
I noticed that.
Eight months pregnant, dress torn at the shoulder, two hundred people on the other side of that door, and my hand was completely steady.
I typed: *I'll be there at eleven.*
I walked back into the ballroom.
Grant was speaking to Ellen in a low voice near the Northstar table.
Malcolm had moved closer to them.
Sabrina was still by the champagne, but she had turned so her back was partly toward the room.
The bracelet caught the light every time she moved.
I walked to the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, "I apologize for the interruption.
Tonight's announcement regarding the Northstar agreement will be postponed.
Ellen, I'll be in touch with your office first thing tomorrow morning."
Ellen nodded once.
Grant turned.
"Claire."
"The evening is over," I said.
"We are not finished."
"I am."
I set the cake knife down on the table beside my untouched birthday cake.
I picked up my evening bag.
I looked at Sabrina once — just once — and she looked away first.
Then I walked toward the exit.
Grant followed me into the lobby.
"You just cost us everything," he said.
"Do you understand that?
One signature.
That's all tonight required."
"Then you should have thought about that before you gave her my bracelet."
"That is not what this is about."
"I know exactly what this is about." I pressed the elevator button.
"And so do you."
"Claire, stop.
Just stop.
We can fix this tonight if you come back in there and—"
"I'm going home," I said.
"I'm going to check on our baby.
And tomorrow morning, before I speak to Northstar, I'm going to speak to a lawyer."
The elevator opened.
Grant's hand shot out and held the door.
"If you do that," he said quietly, "I will make sure you regret it."
I looked at his hand on the door.
Then I looked at him.
"Let go," I said.
He held it for three more seconds.
Then he stepped back.
The doors closed.
I leaned against the elevator wall and let out one slow breath.
The baby moved again — a long, rolling shift that pressed against my ribs.
I put my hand on my belly.
"I know," I said softly.
"I know."
My phone lit up again.
Not from the unknown number this time.
From Sabrina.
*We need to talk.
Before you do anything.
Please.
May you like
There are things about Grant you don't know.
Things I should have told you a long time ago.*
