Chapter 2 - The first card falls
“What did you do?”
Evan stared at his phone.
I picked up Lily’s pacifier from the stroller and wiped it calmly.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
His phone vibrated again.
Then Gloria’s did.
She glanced down impatiently before pushing back from the table.
“My delivery was declined.”
Evan’s eyes snapped toward her.
“What?”
“The handbag.”
“What handbag?”
“The Saint Laurent one I ordered this afternoon.”
Emily looked at me.
I saw something flicker behind her exhaustion.
Confusion.
Then realization.
Gloria tried the purchase again.
“Declined.”
“That card has a fifty-thousand-dollar limit.”
“No,” I said. “It had access to a fifty-thousand-dollar company line.”
Gloria stared at me.
Evan slowly stood.
“You can’t cancel my company cards.”
“Why not?”
“Because I run Hartwell’s eastern operations.”
“You manage them.”
“Same thing.”
“No, Evan. It really isn’t.”
The difference was apparently becoming clear.
His phone buzzed a third time.
He rushed toward the kitchen counter and grabbed his car keys.
“I’m calling finance.”
“You should.”
Emily suddenly touched my arm.
“Mom…”
I turned.
Fear had returned to her face.
“He’ll get angry.”
Three words.
Not he is angry.
He’ll get angry.
The distinction told me more than Emily probably intended.
Evan heard her.
His expression hardened.
“Oh, for God’s sake. Stop acting terrified every time someone raises their voice.”
He moved toward us.
I stood.
I am five feet six inches tall. Evan is six feet two.
He still stopped.
“Sit down,” I said.
Something in my voice must have reminded him that I had spent thirty-five years negotiating restaurant acquisitions with men who believed intimidation counted as intelligence.
Gloria scoffed.
“This is his house.”
“No.”
Everyone turned toward me.
I looked around the kitchen.
The marble counters.
The oak floors.
The custom cabinets.
The house my late husband, Robert, and I had purchased three years before Emily married Evan.
“This property belongs to the Hartwell Family Trust.”
Gloria’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But I noticed.
Evan laughed again, less convincingly.
“Emily is the beneficiary.”
“Emily and her children are protected beneficiaries.”
“Which means I’m her husband.”
“Which means absolutely nothing regarding ownership.”
Before he could answer, someone knocked.
Three firm knocks.
Gloria glanced at the clock.
“Who comes at this hour?”
I already knew.
The door opened.
Daniel Cho stepped inside carrying a thick folder, accompanied by two private security officers and a woman I recognized from Hartwell corporate compliance.
Evan stormed toward him.
“You can’t just walk into my house.”
Daniel removed his glasses.
“Actually, Mr. Mercer, before dessert…”
He glanced at me.
“…this house changes locks.”
May you like
Then he opened the folder.
“And that may be the least serious problem you have tonight.”
