Chapter 7 - FOUR HUNDRED PEOPLE TURNED TO LOOK
Four hundred and twelve guests had been invited to the Brightstep benefit.
Laurel felt as though every one of them was staring at her.
Preston stood beneath the stage lights, holding a wireless microphone.
For seven months, Laurel had imagined what she might say if she ever saw him again.
She had rehearsed speeches in her apartment.
Angry ones.
Dignified ones.
Speeches in which she explained exactly how cruelly he'd treated her.
Now she could barely remember her own address.
Because Preston had done something worse than embarrass her.
He had used children who needed help as the backdrop for a personal attack.
“Mr. Wade.”
Elias North's voice carried across the ballroom.
Preston turned.
“This is a confidential administrative matter. Why are you announcing it to the guests?”
Preston smiled nervously.
“I believe transparency is essential when charitable donations are involved.”
“Then tell them the entire story.”
A murmur moved through the room.
Martin Voss appeared beside the stage.
“Preston,” he said sharply. “Give me the microphone.”
Preston ignored him.
“Unfortunately, a member of the event management team authorized an improper change in donation classifications.”
Laurel stepped forward.
“That's false.”
Her voice wasn't loud.
But the room had become so quiet that several people heard her.
Preston tilted his head.
“Laurel, I understand you're upset.”
She recognized the tone.
He had used it during their arguments whenever she asked a question he didn't want to answer.
Calm.
Patient.
Designed to make her sound unreasonable.
“Then explain why the instruction to investigate me was entered ninety minutes before the change supposedly occurred.”
Preston blinked.
Guests began whispering.
Laurel continued.
“And explain why an external vendor had access to an approval bearing initials copied from a document where I explicitly refused authorization.”
Preston's smile vanished.
“This isn't the appropriate forum for technical details.”
“You chose the forum.”
A few guests nodded.
Elias approached the stage.
“Take her name off that screen.”
Preston hesitated.
“Mr. North—”
“Now.”
Martin signaled the audiovisual technician.
The warning disappeared.
For the first time that evening, Preston looked genuinely uncertain.
Laurel should have felt victorious.
Instead, she noticed someone standing near the service entrance.
Ben.
The young server had been watching the entire exchange.
His face was pale.
Laurel approached him.
“Ben? What's wrong?”
He lowered his voice.
“I think I saw something.”
“What?”
“When I spilled the soup.”
Laurel looked at him carefully.
“Take your time.”
“You put your tablet on the cocktail table.”
“Yes.”
“A man picked it up.”
Her heart began to pound.
“Who?”
“I don't know his name. He had one of those gold staff badges.”
“Was it Mr. Wade?”
“No. He was younger. He wore a black suit and had a silver equipment case.”
One of Preston's technicians.
Ben swallowed.
“I thought he worked here. He touched the screen and put the tablet down again.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“I told security after I heard what happened.”
“And?”
Ben stared at the floor.
“They said I must have misunderstood. They told me to go back to work.”
Laurel felt anger rise.
“Who told you that?”
Ben pointed toward the head table.
“Mr. Voss.”
Laurel looked across the ballroom.
Martin was speaking urgently to Preston.
Whatever compassion she'd felt for Martin's earlier mistake began to harden.
He wasn't merely hiding a bad financial decision.
He was helping silence people who might expose it.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said.
Ben's eyes filled.
“Am I going to get fired?”
“No.”
“You can't promise that.”
He was right.
Laurel knelt slightly so their eyes were level.
“I can promise you that I won't pretend you didn't speak.”
Ben nodded.
June approached, carrying the printed access records.
“I found something.”
They stepped beside the registration station.
June pointed to two columns.
“The donation system identifies your tablet by user name. But the building network identifies each connected device by its equipment number.”
Laurel studied the page.
“And?”
“The request didn't originate from your tablet.”
Laurel looked at her.
“What?”
“It came from a vendor workstation in the south service corridor.”
Ben immediately nodded.
“That's where the man went.”
June pointed to the time.
The vendor workstation had entered the queued transaction at 7:42.
Laurel's tablet had merely displayed the updated record afterward.
Someone had deliberately made the software report her user account as the approving employee.
Elias joined them.
June showed him the equipment numbers.
He examined the page for a long moment.
Then he said, “This proves the access record was misleading.”
Laurel looked toward Preston.
“Does it prove who did it?”
“Not by itself.”
Camille approached from the other side of the registration station.
Her expression was grim.
“I can tell you something else.”
She held a folded program booklet.
“I gave Preston access to my father's pledge information.”
Laurel stared at her.
Camille's voice trembled.
“He said the board needed the details for a funding presentation. I believed him.”
“Camille—”
“I knew he was trying to impress Elias. I knew he wanted his company to look important. But I didn't know he was going to hurt you.”
Laurel looked at the expensive gown, the diamond bracelet, the carefully arranged blond hair.
For the first time, she realized Camille had spent the evening discovering that the man she trusted wasn't the man she thought he was.
It was a pain Laurel knew intimately.
“What did you give him?” Laurel asked.
“A copy of my father's pledge authorization.”
“Does your father know?”
“Not yet.”
Camille opened the program.
Inside was a handwritten note she had found in Preston's portfolio.
A list of donor categories.
A proposed emergency agreement.
And one final instruction.
“If Northline challenges the totals, activate the Dorsey withdrawal first. The second match will fail automatically.”
Laurel stared at the handwriting.
It was Preston's.
May you like
And the clock above the ballroom entrance read 9:08 p.m.
Seven minutes before the live auction.
