Chapter 4 - Flowers for the Witness
Everett stopped when he saw Ben.
For a second, the flowers hung at his side.
Then his face softened into the expression he used when negotiating with someone he considered emotional.
“Claire. Thank God.”
Ruth stood between him and the table.
“You weren’t invited.”
“I’m here to see my wife.”
“You can ask. She can decline.”
He looked past her.
“Can we please stop making this a production?”
I glanced at the white roses.
My favorite flowers were yellow tulips.
After ten years, he still bought whatever looked expensive.
“Did you sign my name?”
His eyes shifted toward the folder.
“Ben, leave.”
Ben stayed seated.
Everett’s jaw tightened.
“This doesn’t concern you.”
“You sent the document through his office,” Ruth said. “It concerns him.”
Everett set the flowers on a chair.
“Claire, those papers were routine.”
“Did you sign my name?”
“You’ve always supported the business.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
He dragged a hand over his mouth.
“I was going to explain.”
There it was.
Not a denial.
Just an objection to the timing.
Ruth made a note.
Everett noticed.
“Oh, come on. You’re treating a husband helping his family like some criminal.”
“A husband can ask,” I said.
“You would have said no.”
“Yes.”
“Exactly.”
I stared at him.
He seemed to realize what he had admitted.
“Look, last night got out of hand.”
“You called me a barren leech.”
“I was upset.”
“About what? Your girlfriend spilling wine on your wife?”
He lowered his voice.
“Vanessa is pregnant.”
“I saw the picture.”
“It changes things.”
“It certainly clarified them.”
For the first time, he looked angry instead of inconvenienced.
“You think you’re going to ruin my company because I want a family?”
I stood.
“I wanted a family too.”
He looked away.
“I was there when they told us the pregnancy was gone,” I said. “You were at dinner.”
“I came afterward.”
“Three hours afterward.”
“I had responsibilities.”
“So did I. I was carrying our child.”
Ruth closed her legal pad.
“This meeting is over.”
Everett picked up the flowers, then dropped them back onto the chair.
“You have no idea what you’re interfering with.”
He pointed at the folder.
“If that loan doesn’t close, people lose their jobs.”
“Then you should have found a way to finance it without forging my signature.”
He walked to the elevator.
Before the doors closed, he looked back.
“You’ll regret letting strangers get between us.”
After he left, Ruth’s assistant brought in an envelope delivered that morning.
Inside was a printed draft of a statement.
Everett’s publicist had prepared it before the gala.
The first sentence described my “recent emotional instability.”
May you like
The date at the top was Thursday.
The gala had been Friday.
