The anniversary gift my husband swore he could not find appeared on another woman’s feet before he had even finished kissing me hello.
Chapter 3
The sound of breaking crystal seemed louder than the applause.
I descended the staircase in a deep red gown with my mother’s ruby necklace at my throat. Charles walked beside me, and behind us came several Whitmore Capital directors, trustees of the Hollister Foundation, and two attorneys Daniel knew well enough to fear.
His face had gone gray.
Madison gripped his arm. “Why are they saying her name?”
Daniel did not answer.
An elderly woman named Margaret Hollister crossed the ballroom and kissed my cheek. She had known my mother since college. “Your father nearly came tonight himself,” she whispered.
“I persuaded him not to.”
Her eyes moved toward Madison’s neck and became cold. “Are those Eleanor’s emeralds?”
“Yes.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
Madison, still unaware of the danger, raised her voice. “Excuse me, but why is a fired employee being allowed into the private reception?”
Several people actually laughed.
Margaret looked at her. “Young woman, Anna’s grandfather financed the restoration of this building. Her family foundation owns the ballroom.”
Madison turned toward Daniel.
“You said she was from some middle-class family in Connecticut.”
Daniel looked as though he might faint.
His eyes found mine. “Anna, we should speak privately.”
“No.”
“Please.”
My attorney stepped forward. “Mr. Mercer, privacy ceased being available to you when you used corporate funds for personal expenditures.”
Daniel’s lips parted.
The attorney continued. “Mercer Systems’ board met this afternoon. Whitmore Capital has accelerated its debt facility pursuant to the fraud provisions in your loan agreement. Your executive authority has been suspended pending investigation.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It already happened.”
Madison released Daniel’s arm.
The attorney opened a folder. “Preliminary findings show unauthorized spending exceeding three hundred thousand dollars, including housing, travel, designer goods, jewelry, and compensation provided to Ms. Cole without proper corporate authorization.”
“I can explain.”
“I imagine several agencies will give you that opportunity.”
Daniel finally looked at me—not with anger, but terror.
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”
The question almost made me pity him.
“Would it have changed how you treated me?”
He said nothing.
“That’s why.”
Madison suddenly began removing the emerald necklace. “I didn’t know any of this. Daniel told me they belonged to him.”
I held up one hand. “Don’t damage the clasp.”
Her fingers froze.
“You knew they belonged to me,” I said. “You knew the shoes were meant for me. You knew he was married. You posted those pictures because hurting me amused you.”
Her confidence vanished.
“I was joking.”
“You were cruel.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re frightened.”
Daniel stepped between us. “Anna, enough. She’s young.”
“So was I once.”
“She made mistakes.”
“So did you.”
He swallowed hard. “We’re married.”
“Not for much longer.”
Police officers entered the ballroom several minutes later, accompanied by investigators. They did not drag anyone away in a theatrical rush. Real consequences are often quieter than that. They asked questions, collected documents, and informed Daniel that corporate records and electronic devices were being preserved under court order.
Madison began crying when an officer requested the emeralds as evidence.
Daniel hardly noticed her.
He came toward me slowly. “Anna, I was stupid.”
“Yes.”
“I liked the attention. She made me feel successful.”
“You were successful.”
“I know.”
“No,” I said. “You thought success meant people admiring you. You never understood what it cost to build anything worth keeping.”
His eyes filled. “We built the company together.”
“We did.”
“And our marriage?”
I looked at the man who had slept beside me for three years. I remembered bringing him coffee at midnight while he worked, rewriting investor presentations, reassuring him after failed pitches, nursing him through the flu, defending him when older executives called him inexperienced. I remembered making myself smaller so he could feel larger.
Then I remembered the keychain.
I opened my evening bag and placed it in his palm.
“Happy anniversary, Daniel.”
His fingers closed around it.
“Anna, please.”
I turned away.
Behind me, Madison was explaining through tears that Daniel had promised her a penthouse and a future. Daniel was trying to call attorneys whose retainers he could no longer charge to the company. Cameras flashed through the glass doors as reporters realized something extraordinary was happening.
Charles offered me his arm.
“You all right?”
I looked across the ballroom toward the people Daniel had once told me were too important to notice me.
“I will be.”
And for the first time in months, it was true.
