Chapter 4

Wind came through the hotel entrance, and Nathan's face had gone past ugly.

He probably hadn't expected my father to skip the part where somebody tells me to think about the bigger picture.

A family that raised its daughter right didn't raise her to be anybody's doormat.

Joanna finally panicked.

She caught Nathan's sleeve, and her voice went thin. "Nathan, this is all because of me. Maybe I should apologize to Vivian. I'll beg her if she wants, as long as she stops hurting Hall Corporation."

I watched her knees start to bend.

She picked her angle well, right in front of the guests still standing outside the hotel.

Somebody already had a phone up.

I walked over and put my foot on her hem before it touched the ground.

Joanna froze.

I bent down and looked at her.

I said, "Don't. One drop and tomorrow's headline is rich girl forces orphan to the floor. Your knees tell a better story than your mouth does."

Her face finally slipped.

Nathan pulled her up and raised his voice. "Vivian Young, you've gone far enough."

I took my foot back. "I've gone far? Nathan, when you walked her up there, she had on my dress, my bouquet, my place, and my money. Where exactly was the decency in that?"

Joanna shook all over.

Nathan's eyes went as cold as they could go. "You'll pay for what you said tonight."

I pulled the door open, got in, and looked at him through the window.

"Fine, I'll wait. You should hurry. Hall Corporation opens at nine tomorrow, and you don't have much time left to posture."

The driver shut the door.

As the car pulled away, I saw Nathan in the mirror, standing where I left him, Joanna wiping her eyes, and Grace hurrying out to join them. The three of them together looked like a dish nobody ordered.

My phone buzzed again.

My assistant had sent a first tally.

It covered the canceled reception, the balance on the apartment, the first Westside payment, and three supply contracts the Hall Family had signed using the Young name.

Every line had a number after it.

I opened the Westside line and looked at it for a long time.

Once that project stopped, the hole the Hall Family had torn open that night would start to take on wind by morning.

I forwarded the file to legal.

I sent: [Check the contract and get me a suspension notice before morning. Don't dress up the wording. The Hall Family already put their own dignity on the floor, and we don't have to pick it up for them.]

I sent it and leaned back into the seat.

The holiday lights along the street were still on the whole way home, warm and red.

I looked down at my empty ring finger.

It was good that the ring had never gone on.

That way I wouldn't have to take it off and mind that the Hall Family had touched it.

By half past eight the next morning, Nathan had called twenty-seven times.

I didn't answer once.

At nine sharp, the Young legal team sent the suspension notice to Hall Corporation. By five past nine, the suppliers, the contractor, and both partner banks on the Westside Project had copies.

By nine twenty, Hall Corporation stock began to drop.

At nine forty, Grace called me herself.

I was in a conference room, going through the apartment balance, with the payment breakdown for the river-view unit up on the screen. I paid the deposit, the renovation, and the furniture. Nathan contributed a mouth and a few complaints.

My phone buzzed for a long time.

I answered it and put it on speaker.

Grace sounded a lot softer than she had the night before.

She said, "Vivian, Nathan really didn't think it through yesterday, and I've spoken to him about it. But the Westside Project is serious business. A fight between the two of you shouldn't drag two companies into it."

I turned a page of the file.

I sneered, "The two of us? Grace, when the stage came down last night, did you not hear that the engagement was off?"

She paused, not used to hearing her own name out of my mouth.

"Young people say things they don't mean when they fight. Joanna has had it hard, and Nathan was only being kind. You're the one marrying into this family, and holding a grudge against her doesn't look right."

I laughed, "Marrying into what? So I can watch all of you clear the master bedroom out for Joanna?"

A few executives in the room kept their heads down over their files, with their shoulders pulled tight.

Grace's voice got faster.

"Vivian, you don't have to be that blunt. The apartment is almost finished, and every relative and friend we have knows the two of you are getting married. Calling it off now touches your name too."

I pushed the apartment contract over to our legal director. "Hold the transfer, and tell the renovation crew to clear out today."

The line went quiet.

Grace's tone finally changed. "You're taking back the apartment?"

I sneered, "Your ears still work."

Her breathing got heavier. "That was supposed to be a home for you and Nathan."

"There's no home and no later. Grace, your son was very generous with somebody else's place in the family last night. Do you remember now whose money bought that apartment?"

Grace kept her anger down. "Vivian, this looks terrible. Joanna is an orphan who can't afford a decent place, and Nathan helping her here and there is a good deed."

I looked up at the number on the screen. "A good deed is done with your own money. He wanted my money to pay for his kind heart. Does he look like he's worth that?"

There was a scrape on the line, and Nathan must have taken the phone.

He asked, "Vivian Young, what exactly do you want?"

His voice sounded like he hadn't slept, rough with anger underneath.