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Women like her reveal everything to quiet women, assuming silence means emptiness.
“Eleanor,” I said, “I agree. Infidelity is inappropriate. Theft is inappropriate. Misuse of corporate funds is inappropriate. Lying to donors at a children’s literacy gala is deeply inappropriate.”
The word corporate did what the word adultery could not.
It frightened the men.
Board members straightened. Lawyers leaned toward one another. Phones rose higher.
Grant’s voice cracked. “What are you doing?”
I looked at him.
For seven years, I had loved that face.
For seven years, I had defended him, excused him, softened his edges in rooms where he was too arrogant to notice he needed softening. I had turned his family name into philanthropic credibility. I had turned his hotel openings into community events. I had made him seem warmer than he was.
And he had repaid me by giving a girl my wedding dress.
“I am returning everything to its rightful owner,” I said.
CHAPTER 4 — THE NAME HE NEVER BOTHERED TO ASK ABOUT
The first real twist of the night did not involve the affair.
Affairs are common.
Men like Grant always assume betrayal is the headline because betrayal is the most dramatic thing they personally have done.
But my secret was older than my marriage.
And much more expensive.
I clicked the remote again.
The screen changed to a corporate ownership chart.
At the top: Avalon Trust.
Below it: 38% controlling interest in Mercer Hospitality Group.
A ripple moved through the ballroom.
Grant stared at the screen.
Then at me.
Then back at the screen.
He did not understand.
Not yet.
His father did.