Chapter 3
The door clicked shut.
I stood in the entryway, staring at the bowl of soup.
David had three days. It was also a deadline for me.
Then three days passed.
The watch didn't return.
David said Madeline was on a business trip and would return it next week.
He used the same excuse again.
I didn't bring it up anymore.
But I did something else.
On Friday afternoon, using a different number, I called Madeline's assistant. I pretended to be from an auction house, wanting to discuss business. I scheduled a face-to-face meeting for 3:00 PM on Monday.
*****
Monday came.
Madeline's office was on the 52nd floor of the Gold Tower in the Riverfront District.
The receptionist led me to a conference room and poured me a glass of water.
"Director Stone will be with you shortly," she said.
I waited ten minutes.
The door opened.
Madeline Stone was even more striking in person. High ponytail, charcoal gray skirt suit, Roger Vivier square-toe heels.
On her left wrist was that Patek Philippe.
My gaze lingered on her wrist for two seconds.
She noticed. "Hi there, from Heritage Auction House?" she said, taking a seat across from me and crossing her legs.
"Yes. My name's Charlotte Rivers," I replied.
Her expression didn't change.
"Regarding what business?" she asked.
I handed her my business card.
She took it, glanced at it, and set it on the table.
"Charlotte," she repeated my name and smiled. "That sounds familiar."
"David might have mentioned it," I said.
She was still trying to figure it out.
"David?" Her smile widened. "You know him?"
"He's my husband," I replied.
The room went quiet for about three seconds.
Madeline tapped her fingers lightly on the table.
"Ah, that explains it." She glanced down at the watch on her wrist, making no move to take it off. "You're here for the watch?"
"I'm here to reclaim my property," I said.
She leaned back, studying me. "Mr. David told me it was from his personal collection."
"It was my grandmother's keepsake. I have a notarized deed of gift proving sole ownership," I said.
"Is that right?" Her tone was lightly amused. "Then tell your husband to come ask me for it himself."
"I'm telling you."
She laughed. It was not a polite laugh, but a dismissive, condescending one.
"Ms. Rivers, let me give you some advice." She stood, adjusting her sleeve to reveal more of the watch. "Sometimes, things that are given away can't be taken back. Watches... and people."
I stared at her wrist.
The watch face was face down, but I knew what was etched on the back.
"To my only star."
"Director Stone," I also stood. "That watch has serial number 003. The Geneva Seal number is GS-2017-0389, and the movement serial is PP240-81726. This is all documented in my ownership file."
Her expression flickered.
But it only lasted for a split second.
Then the composure returned.
"You're quite something," she said, picking up her phone. "But this really is something you should ask your husband about, not me. Are you sure you know the state of your own marriage?"
She turned and walked out.
Her heels clicked on the marble floor, a steady, confident rhythm.
I stood alone in that empty conference room, listening to the sound fade down the hallway.
She mentioned my marriage.
Her question stuck in my head like a nail.
On the way home, sitting in the back of a cab, I pulled up David's credit card statements from the past six months. His card was linked to our shared email, and he'd never changed the password.
In January, he bought 12 bouquets from a high-end florist. That would be 4,800 dollars in total. I never received a single one.
In February, he spent 26,700 dollars at a private club. He never took me there once.
In March, he bought a Tiffany T-series bracelet, which was worth 15,300 dollars. There was nothing from Tiffany in my jewelry box.
April, May, June. Every month, he bought things without my knowledge.
I screenshot each one and saved them to my encrypted folder.
The cab pulled up at our building. The fare was 24 dollars.
I paid and got out.
The wind was strong.
It made my eyes burn.