Chapter 4
She had always been elegant rather than glamorous—precise clothes, carefully arranged silver-blond hair, everything coordinated.
Today she simply looked tired.
She stopped when she noticed Dad at the dining table.
“Mr. Sterling.”
“Mrs. Hale.”
Her eyes moved to me.
“I didn’t realize this was a family conference.”
“It isn’t,” I said. “It’s a conversation.”
Rowan pulled out a chair.
Selina stayed standing.
“May I see Leo first?”
The request surprised me because her voice softened around his name.
Rowan looked at me.
Leo was awake in the bassinet, calmly staring at nothing.
I nodded.
Selina approached.
She didn’t reach for him.
She simply looked down.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Leo waved one hand.
Selina smiled.
A real smile.
“Hello, darling.”
Something inside me loosened despite everything.
Children had a strange ability to make complicated adults simple for a moment.
Then she sat.
I placed the lease correspondence before her.
Her face changed.
“You found that.”
“Yes.”
Rowan leaned forward.
“What is it?”
So he didn’t know.
He read the note.
Pregnancy-related anxiety.
His expression hardened.
“Mom.”
“I was trying to help.”
“By intercepting notices?”
“I wasn’t intercepting anything. I asked them to send correspondence to the office.”
“So Phoebe wouldn’t see it.”
“She was pregnant.”
“She was also my wife.”
“I knew you’d tell her when the time was right.”
The forensic accountant in me almost admired the irony.
“Selina,” I said, “when exactly would the time have been right?”
She looked at me.
“After the financing stabilized.”
“It didn’t stabilize.”
“I thought it would.”
“But it didn’t.”
“No.”
“And you still opened?”
Her shoulders stiffened.
“We are opening.”
“When?”
“Next month.”
Rowan stared.
“You told me the project was dead.”
“The original project was.”
“What does that mean?”
Selina folded her hands.
“The investors withdrew. I found another solution.”
My instincts sharpened.
“What solution?”
She glanced toward Dad.
That was answer enough.
“What did my company do?” he asked.
“Nothing improper.”
“I didn’t ask whether it was improper.”
Selina sighed.
“The landlord offered a deferred-rent restructuring.”
Dad leaned back.
“Who negotiated it?”
“Mara.”
There was that name again.
“Why has Mara been calling Rowan?” I asked.
Selina blinked.
“I don’t know.”
Rowan frowned.
“She left three messages.”
“She shouldn’t be involving you anymore.”
“Anymore?”
The word stayed in the air.
Selina realized her mistake.
“Mom,” Rowan said quietly, “what haven’t you told me?”
She looked down.
Seeing Selina uncertain was almost startling.
Finally she answered.
“Your guarantee is being released.”
Rowan stared.
“What?”
“The new financing replaced it.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
His relief was immediate.
Mine too.
Then suspicion followed.
“Who provided the new financing?” I asked.
“No one person.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
She glanced at Dad.
“I assumed you knew.”
Dad raised his eyebrows.
“Knew what?”
“The community fund.”
He frowned.
So did I.
Sterling Foundation operated several development programs, but it didn’t finance restaurants.
Dad took out his phone.
“Name?”
Selina gave it to him.
He searched.
Then laughed softly.
“What?”
Dad turned the screen toward me.
Sterling Community Development Partnership.
It sounded connected to Dad’s company.
May you like
But it wasn’t.
Not anymore.
