Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO THOUGHT SHE WAS REPLACING ME
“You guaranteed twenty-two million dollars without telling the majority shareholder?”
My voice sounded remarkably calm.
Inside, I was furious.
Jason remained standing beside his chair.
“It's more complicated than you're making it.”
“Then simplify it.”
He looked at Daniel.
“Can we discuss this privately?”
“No,” I answered.
The executives had just learned their employer might be facing a financial disaster.
They deserved an explanation.
Daniel examined the financing summary.
“The guarantee appears to reference a board authorization for Harborlight's emergency construction financing.”
I remembered that authorization.
Two years earlier, we'd approved a limited financing arrangement to repair storm damage and keep the Florida property insured.
It was nowhere near twenty-two million dollars.
“That resolution didn't authorize a private development guarantee,” I said.
Daniel nodded slowly.
“No. It didn't.”
Jason pulled out his phone.
“I need to contact our banking relationship manager.”
“You can do that after we preserve the records.”
I turned toward Daniel.
“Please initiate a formal document hold. No emails, invoices, payment approvals, or project files are to be deleted. I also want an independent accounting review.”
Jason laughed bitterly.
“You're going to investigate your own husband?”
“I'm investigating my company's money.”
That was when Mia finally spoke.
“Wait.”
Everyone looked at her.
She was staring at my wedding ring.
“You're still married?”
Jason closed his eyes.
“Mia—”
“You told me the divorce was finalized.”
My throat tightened.
There it was.
Not an apology.
Not remorse.
Just another lie becoming visible.
I looked at Mia.
“How long have you been engaged?”
She hesitated.
“Six weeks.”
“And how long have you worked here?”
“Nine months.”
I nodded.
The financial irregularities had started almost three years earlier.
Whatever Jason had been doing, Mia wasn't the beginning of it.
But she had become part of it.
Jason reached for her arm.
“We'll discuss this later.”
She pulled away.
“No. You told me Natalie was your former business partner. You said she kept the last name because of the company.”
I watched my husband struggle to find a response.
For years, I'd defended him when investors called him overly ambitious.
I'd told people he was brilliant under pressure.
Now I wondered whether ambition had simply made him comfortable with lying.
“Mia,” I said, “I'm not interested in embarrassing you further. But those earrings were charged to the business.”
She touched them again.
“He told me they were a birthday gift.”
“You may have believed that. But you'll need to return them while the expense is investigated.”
Her face flushed.
Jason stepped toward me.
“Don't punish her.”
“I'm holding the person responsible for spending company money accountable.”
He stopped.
For the first time that morning, he looked frightened rather than angry.
Daniel asked the executives to remain available for individual interviews.
Elaine approached me as the room began emptying.
“Natalie, I need to tell you something.”
Jason turned.
“Elaine, don't.”
She ignored him.
“I never saw a building permit for the second phase of Harborlight.”
My heart dropped.
“How is that possible?”
“Jason said the Florida development office was handling everything. Whenever I asked, his office sent photographs and contractor certifications.”
“Did you ever visit the site?”
“No.”
Jason looked disgusted.
“Elaine, you're the CFO. You approved those payments.”
“I approved them based on information your office supplied.”
Neither was an adequate excuse.
But it told me something important.
The failure had spread beyond one dishonest transaction.
I asked Daniel to arrange a verified inspection of the property.
Then Mia approached me carrying a thin blue folder.
“I think you should see this.”
Inside were project photographs she'd printed for Jason's upcoming investor presentation.
I examined them.
Beautiful white buildings.
Palm trees.
A swimming pool overlooking the Atlantic.
Workers wearing Reed Harbor safety vests.
It looked like a resort nearing completion.
Then I noticed something strange.
A blue pickup truck appeared beside the main entrance.
I flipped to another photograph.
Same truck.
Same position.
Same dent above the driver's-side wheel.
The two photographs were supposedly taken eleven months apart.
Mia pointed to the printed captions.
“I prepared the presentation. Jason told me to change the dates.”
“Why?”
“He said the investors needed updated images, but the photographer wasn't available.”
I kept turning pages.
Then I found a photograph taken from a different angle.
Behind the beautiful building was a construction fence.
Attached to that fence was a sign.
BLUE HERON LAND DEVELOPMENT — PRIVATE PROPERTY.
I looked up.
“Mia, where were these pictures taken?”
She swallowed.
“That's what I wanted to tell you.”
May you like
Her voice became barely audible.
“Jason said Harborlight was almost finished. But the address on the photographer's invoice belongs to a completely different property.”
