Chapter 6 - EIGHT MILLION REASONS TO LIE
"Eight million dollars?"
Rebecca repeated the amount.
Grant stared at the table.
His attorney answered instead.
"It's a transaction deposit connected to the proposed acquisition. The precise conditions are confidential."
"Then perhaps your client should stop discussing them," Rebecca replied.
Grant pushed back his chair.
"This meeting is supposed to be about my divorce."
"It is," I said. "You made my property part of it."
He turned toward me.
"You think you're so clever now, don't you?"
"No. I think I'm finally listening."
For eleven years, I had listened to his excuses.
I had listened when he said my work was embarrassing.
I had listened when he told friends I enjoyed staying home.
I had listened when his mother suggested a real wife focused on her husband's success.
I had even listened when he insisted we sign a prenuptial agreement because he feared I might someday take what belonged to him.
But I was finished listening without asking questions.
Rebecca requested that all further settlement discussions be conducted through counsel.
We left without signing anything.
In the parking garage, she stopped beside my car.
"There's a difference between protecting your property and making accusations we can't yet prove," she told me. "Keep documenting everything. Let the technical evidence speak."
I nodded.
She was right.
Anger could push me into mistakes.
Evidence could protect everyone.
The following morning, I met with Tessa and Jonah.
We reviewed the financial exposure surrounding Whitcomb Engineering's acquisition.
The buyer had been told it was purchasing a company capable of producing thousands of my patented monitoring systems.
Without valid rights, that promise was meaningless.
But the transaction affected more than Grant.
Whitcomb Engineering employed eighty-four people.
Some had worked there for decades.
I knew several of their families.
I had attended their weddings, retirement parties, and holiday dinners.
I couldn't pretend their livelihoods didn't matter simply because I hated what my husband had done.
"What's the safest way to stop the misrepresentation without destroying the workers?" I asked.
Tessa looked relieved.
"I was hoping you'd ask that."
We decided to provide the buyer's diligence team with the documented facts about ownership and product safety, while making clear that Cedar Line would cooperate with legitimate remediation.
We would not threaten employees.
We would not shut down equipment that people relied upon.
And we would not endorse products we hadn't approved.
That afternoon, I received a message from Eleanor Whitcomb.
Grant's mother.
She wanted to meet.
I almost declined.
Eleanor had never hidden her disappointment that I wasn't the polished social wife she imagined for her son.
But she was also Walter's wife.
And Walter had once called me his daughter.
So I agreed to meet her at a café near the hospital.
Eleanor arrived wearing a dark wool coat and an expression that suggested she had rehearsed the conversation.
"Grant says you're trying to destroy his company."
I stirred my coffee.
"Did he tell you about the defective equipment at St. Catherine's?"
"He said there was a misunderstanding."
"Did he tell you he used my patents without authorization?"
She stiffened.
"Grant built that business."
"He did. I'm not denying it. But he didn't invent my technology."
Eleanor folded her gloves.
"You must understand. His father was sick for so long. Grant carried enormous responsibilities."
I looked at her.
"So did I."
Her expression softened slightly.
I continued.
"I drove Walter to chemotherapy when Grant couldn't leave work. I cleaned his bathroom when he was too weak to stand. I sat with him after midnight because he was frightened and didn't want Eleanor to know."
Tears appeared in her eyes.
"I know you helped us."
"Then why did you let Grant tell everyone I did nothing?"
She looked away.
For the first time, Eleanor had no ready answer.
Before we parted, she reached into her handbag.
She handed me a small velvet pouch.
Inside was Walter's old silver wristwatch.
The watch he had worn throughout his treatment.
"He asked me to give you this," she said. "Grant told him you probably wouldn't want it."
I closed my fingers around the cool metal.
"Why would Grant say that?"
Eleanor looked troubled.
"He said you'd become too successful to care about family."
I almost laughed.
Then I almost cried.
The man who had ignored my success had apparently used that success to turn his own father against me.
That evening, Celeste requested a meeting through Tessa.
I considered refusing.
Instead, I agreed to speak with her in Cedar Line's conference room, with Tessa present.
Celeste arrived without the diamond earrings.
She looked tired.
"I need to ask you something," she said.
"Go ahead."
"Did you approve the removal of the secondary warning circuit?"
"No."
She swallowed.
"Grant told me you had."
"Why?"
"Because I raised concerns during testing."
I leaned forward.
"You knew the units could fail?"
"I knew there was a problem. He said your team had reviewed the modification."
"Then why didn't you contact us?"
Celeste looked at her hands.
"Because I wanted to believe him."
Her voice trembled.
"I put nearly everything I owned into that partnership. I thought the sale would finally make it worthwhile."
I watched her carefully.
She was still the woman who had laughed while my marriage ended.
But she was no longer smiling.
Then she said something that made the room feel suddenly smaller.
"The approval record didn't come from Whitcomb Engineering."
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
May you like
Celeste looked directly at me.
"Our IT review traced the submission to the computer registered in your home office."
