Chapter 7 - The Woman in the Emerald Dress
Victoria called the next morning and asked Ava not to hang up. Her father, Graham Langford, had ordered the charity’s bank to halt further disbursements while its board reviewed the restricted donations. Damian was telling everyone that Ava had sabotaged a legitimate redevelopment to win Gabriel’s attention. Victoria wanted to know what Ava intended to say publicly.
“The truth,” Ava answered. “Including the part where you signed the distribution schedule.”
“I gave you the minutes.”
“That was useful. It doesn’t make what you did harmless.”
Victoria was silent long enough for Ava to hear traffic through the phone. “I know.”
They met again with Priya and Victoria’s lawyer. This time Victoria brought a complete timeline rather than a few pages selected to make herself appear less responsible. Her company had bought an option on Birch Court eighteen months earlier. The lender required proof that enough tenants would leave voluntarily before releasing financing. Damian proposed framing the departures as charitable relocation, using the Home Again gala to collect restricted gifts and reduce the developer’s expenses. Victoria had approved the language, despite warnings from an employee that the notices were misleading.
“Why tell us now?” Priya asked.
“Because my father wants Damian to take the blame for everything, and Damian wants me to take it,” Victoria replied. “They’re both pretending they can settle this with one resignation.”
Ava thought of the woman pouring laughter over her wet dress. Victoria was neither an innocent puppet nor an all-powerful mastermind. She had choices, made damaging ones, and was now afraid of what the record would show. Ava could recognize that without forgiving her.
“What happened to the original grant restrictions?” Ava asked.
“They’re in the foundation archive. The board chair objected to changing them.”
“Who’s the chair?”
Victoria hesitated. “My aunt, Evelyn Langford. Damian told us she had approved the revised terms. She hadn’t.”
Priya requested the correspondence. Evelyn, a former public librarian who had spent years defending the foundation’s small grants, agreed to speak with the charity’s independent counsel. She had raised concerns at two meetings and been assured the legal team would address them. The minutes did not include her objection. Talia had already found payments inconsistent with the restrictions; Evelyn’s emails showed that those concerns had been raised before the event.
The story was growing, but Ava refused to let it turn into a parade of conveniently evil relatives. She asked a simpler question. “Can the money still pay for safe temporary housing?”
“Some of it can,” Victoria said. “The bank has frozen the rest until it knows where the payments went.”
“Then work with the tenant attorney to release what can legally be used. People have bills now.”
Victoria looked at Priya, who agreed to discuss an arrangement through the independent foundation board. The process would require donor consent or a court-approved interpretation for disputed funds. Ava accepted that an honest solution could move slowly. The dishonest one had moved terribly fast.
That night, she visited Gabriel at his office. He had cleared his desk of promotional photographs and laid out a plain spreadsheet showing every payment Mercer Civic had received or made in connection with Birch Court. There were no secret drawers, no dramatic envelope. The numbers were worse because they were ordinary. Malcolm’s consultancy had collected a fee for a design option Gabriel had never authorized, while Mercer Civic’s logo appeared on promotional material suggesting the firm supported clearing the property.
“Did you fire him?” Ava asked.
“He’s been removed from operations. The board has initiated termination proceedings under his contract. We’ve reported the disputed documents to counsel and the relevant agencies.”
“You sound like a press release.”
Gabriel rubbed his eyes. “I’m trying not to tell you more than I know.”
She sat opposite him. “Then tell me something you do know.”
“I know I should have asked why he wanted the bid handled without me. I know I liked having somebody I trusted make the ugly calls while I did the parts that looked generous.”
Ava’s anger softened, not into absolution but into recognition. She had once let Damian handle accounts because she was exhausted and believed that love meant trust. She understood the temptation to hand away a difficult responsibility. She also knew what it cost.
“I don’t want you buying Birch Court just so I’ll believe you’re good,” she said.
“I don’t want that either.”
“What do the residents want?”
“A preservation deal with tenant protections and a repair fund. Jo sent our team their conditions. We haven’t replied until our independent review is finished.”
“Good.”
He reached across the desk, then paused. She placed her hand in his. They had not discussed a wedding date since the gala. Ava knew that was not a punishment. They had discovered how much work there was between announcing love and building a life in which neither person disappeared.
On Monday, Evelyn Langford asked to meet the residents. Jo agreed to a public session with their attorney present and no cameras inside. Evelyn listened to Mr. Wu describe hauling his oxygen equipment down the stairs. She listened to Mrs. Price explain the surrender agreement she had believed was a hotel form. When Evelyn apologized on behalf of the charity, Mrs. Price asked whether an apology would restore her lease.
“No,” Evelyn said. “But our lawyers are working on the disputed agreements, and the board has voted to release the lawful emergency housing funds while the review continues.”
Jo thanked her for the information, not for the harm. Ava liked that distinction.
After the meeting, Damian sent Ava an email titled ONE LAST CHANCE. It offered to correct her employment record and repay the $4,800 she had given him years ago if she signed a statement saying the champagne was an accident and she had coordinated the Birch Court move-outs.
He had put the bargain in writing. Ava forwarded it to Priya without replying.
Five minutes later, another message arrived. It contained a photograph of her grandmother’s bracelet, the one Ava had sold to keep Damian in school.
May you like
The message read: I BOUGHT IT BACK YEARS AGO. YOU CAN HAVE IT WHEN YOU STOP MAKING TROUBLE.
For the first time since the gala, Ava cried. Not because she wanted him back. Because he had kept a piece of her family as leverage while telling her she was never worth keeping.
