Chapter 3
Three days later, Andrew appeared at the door of my studio.
The receptionist rushed in, looking panicked. "Ms. Sutton, there's a man outside who insists on seeing you. The security guards can't hold him back—"
Before she could finish, the door was pushed open.
Andrew was standing right there in the doorway.
It had been a year since I last saw him, and he looked thinner. His suit still fit, but it didn't fill out like it used to. There were dark circles under his eyes, a clear sign he hadn't been sleeping well.
He stopped in his tracks for a second when he saw me.
"Claire," he said.
I set down my pencil and leaned back in my chair.
"Mr. Lane, what brings you to my humble studio?" I asked.
He took a couple of steps closer and closed the door behind him.
"Did the bank tell you about the properties?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"Then you should know what kind of mess I'm in right now," he said.
"I don't know," I said. "I don't care."
He pressed his lips. "Claire, those properties—"
"They're already sold. A year ago," I said.
"Why?" he asked.
I looked at him. "Why? Andrew, those were mine. My name, my title, my money. Why can't I sell them?
"Do I need your permission? Who are you to me?"
He swallowed hard. "I know you hate me. But you know how bad things are at Lane & Sutton Holdings. There's a one-billion-dollar gap. If we can't fill it, more than two thousand employees—"
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Claire!"
"Mr. Lane," I said, standing up, leaning on the desk, and meeting his gaze level-eyed. "You have a wife. Her name is Rose. Go to her.
"Seek help from the woman you thought was worth tricking me into the divorce.
"Don't come to me."
He stood there, trying to say something, but he couldn't find the words.
I pressed the intercom on my desk. "Send security up."
"I'm leaving," he said.
As he turned to leave, he paused for a moment. "Claire, if—"
"No ifs. Get out," I cut in.
The door closed behind him.
I sank back into my chair, gripping the edge of the desk, my nails digging into my palm.
After three seconds, I let go, picked up my pencil again, and drew steady lines.
*****
The day after Andrew left, someone I'd been expecting showed up.
It was Rose.
She showed up at three in the afternoon, dressed in a beige dress, teetering on five-inch heels, and wearing an emerald bracelet.
I recognized that bracelet.
Andrew had spent 2.5 million dollars on it at an auction last year. The news read: [Andrew Lane Splurges Millions on Jewelry for His Beloved Wife.]
She walked in with a smile, looking like she was doing me a favor. "Claire, hope you don't mind me showing up without telling you."
I didn't bother to stand up.
"What do you want?" I asked.
She settled into the chair across from me, crossed her legs, and slowly sized up my studio. "Kind of cramped here."
"It works fine for me," I replied.
"A far cry from your old studio at Rosewood Estates, huh?" she added.
I put my pencil down. "Ms. Simmons, if you're here to reminisce, I don't have time for that."
She smiled. "Don't be so cold. I'm here to work something out with you.
"You know how bad things are at Lane & Sutton Holdings. Andrew's been under so much pressure. He hasn't slept a wink.
"He came to see you, didn't he?"
I didn't answer.
She went on, "I know you sold all the properties. How much did you get for them? Over 30 million dollars?"
She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist, her voice airy and almost dismissive.
She went on, "Claire, maybe you could lend Andrew a little? Think of it as helping out someone you used to know. After all, you were husband and wife.
"Once the company pulls through, you'll get your money back, plus interest."
I looked at her for a few seconds.
Then I smiled. "Rose, did you get something mixed up?
"Andrew and I are over. You want his ex-wife to throw him a lifeline so you can keep living it up as Mrs. Lane?
"You think I'd say yes?"
Her smile froze for a second. "I figured you wouldn't want Lane & Sutton Holdings to crash and burn. I mean, your name's still part of the company—"
"Not anymore," I interrupted.
I stood up, walked to the door, and pulled it open.
"Let me make this clear one last time. Lane & Sutton Holdings? Not my problem. Andrew? Even less," I said. "Please leave."
Her smile finally cracked.
When she stood up, her heels thudded heavily on the floor.
At the door, she turned back. "Claire, don't get ahead of yourself. Now that you've sold those properties, what do you have left?
"Only this shabby little studio?
"You'll never be on my level."
I leaned against the doorframe. "Rose," I said. "That bracelet on your wrist? It's a top-grade emerald with a starting bid of five million dollars from abroad. Andrew paid 2.5 million dollars for it.
"But when I was designing that royal wedding jewelry last year, I casually picked out over a dozen rough gems that were far superior to yours.
"You think I'm nothing without those properties?
"You can never earn as much as what I have left."
Her face went completely pale.
She turned and walked away.
Her heels clicked faster and faster down the hallway, growing more hurried with every step.
I closed the door.