Chapter 8 - THE TOAST
Graham went pale.
Richard remained standing.
“I owe Elise an apology.”
Every eye at the table turned toward me.
Richard set down his glass.
“Several weeks ago, Graham brought me to the museum after hours.”
Cynthia’s mouth opened.
“Richard—”
He ignored her.
“I believed Elise had arranged access.”
Graham shifted.
“Richard, maybe we should discuss this privately.”
“No.”
One word.
Calm.
Final.
Richard looked at me.
“I should have confirmed it directly with you.”
“Yes,” I said.
Graham stared at me.
I didn’t soften it.
Richard continued.
“I viewed materials I should not have viewed.”
Someone at the far end of the table stopped chewing.
“My attorneys are already cooperating with the museum.”
Graham pushed his chair back.
“This is ridiculous.”
Anne closed her eyes.
“Graham,” she whispered.
“No, seriously. We looked at event materials. Public names. People act like I stole Social Security numbers.”
I felt twenty years older listening to him.
“It wasn’t public to you,” I said.
He turned toward me.
“You brought it home.”
“So?”
“You left it where anyone could see it.”
There it was.
The pivot.
From apology to blame.
My mother’s face changed.
“Careful,” she said.
Graham looked at her.
“This is between me and my wife.”
My mother smiled without warmth.
“Then stop performing it in front of thirty people.”
A few people looked down.
Richard spoke again.
“Graham, sit down.”
Graham laughed.
“You’re enjoying this?”
Richard’s expression hardened.
“No.”
“You get to play innocent now?”
The room went still.
That caught everyone’s attention.
Richard stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Graham pointed at him.
“You wanted those names too.”
Anne whispered, “Graham.”
“No. If everyone wants truth, let’s have truth.”
He looked around the table.
“Richard knew exactly why we were there.”
Richard’s face turned cold.
“You told me Elise had approved access.”
“Come on.”
“I asked you twice.”
“You knew what we were looking for.”
“I knew what you told me.”
Graham laughed again.
Then he looked at me.
“See?”
His eyes were wild now.
“This is what happens. Everybody saves themselves.”
I stared at him.
“No. This is what happens when your lies start contradicting each other.”
He flinched.
Cynthia stood.
“That is enough.”
I looked at her.
“Yes. It is.”
She turned to me.
“You should never have allowed this conversation during Thanksgiving.”
I almost admired her consistency.
Her son had entered my office without permission.
But my timing was the problem.
“Cynthia, sit down.”
Her face went red.
“You do not speak to me that way.”
“In my house?”
My voice stayed quiet.
“I absolutely do.”
Graham stepped away from the table.
“I’m leaving.”
Richard said, “Before you go, there’s something else.”
Graham stopped.
Richard reached into his jacket.
Pulled out a folded document.
Set it beside Graham’s plate.
“I received this yesterday from our compliance department.”
Graham stared at it.
His face emptied.
I looked between them.
“What is it?”
Richard’s eyes stayed on Graham.
“A copy of the partnership proposal he submitted six weeks ago.”
My husband didn’t move.
May you like
Richard turned toward me.
“Elise, your name appears in it seventeen times.”
