Chapter 3 - SHE HAD BEEN PREPARING FOR MORE THAN A MARRIAGE
I met Rob at seven the next morning.
He had already printed everything.
The credit application.
Supporting documents.
A personal financial statement.
My home value.
Investment accounts.
Business holdings.
Even an estimated value of Mom’s bungalow.
I stared at the page.
“Why is my mother’s house here?”
Rob looked uncomfortable.
“I was going to ask you.”
“It isn’t mine.”
“Future inheritance?”
I looked up.
“Who writes that into a business credit application?”
“Someone trying to increase net worth.”
My jaw tightened.
Bianca.
Her email appeared repeatedly.
She had sent documents to the bank under the phrase:
On behalf of Mason Cole.
“I never authorized any of this.”
Rob nodded.
“I believe you.”
“Do you?”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Then he slid another paper forward.
“Edward Whitmore guaranteed part of it.”
I laughed softly.
“So her father knew.”
“Maybe.”
“Rob.”
“I don’t know.”
The meeting with Edward took place at ten.
Bianca came too.
That surprised me.
She wore black.
No engagement ring.
Her eyes looked swollen.
Whether from crying or preparation, I couldn’t tell.
Edward sat at the head of our conference table as if he owned it.
He almost did.
His project would have doubled our revenue.
“Mason.”
“Edward.”
“This has gotten out of hand.”
“Which part?”
Bianca’s mouth tightened.
Edward ignored the question.
“My daughter tells me yesterday became chaotic.”
“Your daughter shoved my mother.”
Bianca leaned forward.
“I did not shove her.”
Rob looked between us.
Edward said:
“We are not litigating family disagreements here.”
“No.”
I placed the credit application on the table.
“We’re discussing this.”
Bianca froze.
Tiny reaction.
Enough.
Edward looked down.
“What is that?”
“You tell me.”
He read.
His eyes moved toward Bianca.
She spoke first.
“You asked me to help.”
“No.”
“You said you wanted financing available before the Whitmore project.”
“I said Rob and I were considering a line of credit.”
“Exactly.”
“I did not authorize you to apply.”
“You were busy.”
I stared.
“You submitted my financial information without telling me.”
“You gave me access to everything.”
“For wedding planning.”
Bianca laughed in disbelief.
“We were getting married.”
“So?”
“So your finances were becoming mine.”
There.
Rob looked away.
Edward said, “Bianca.”
But she kept going.
“You’re making this sound criminal.”
“I haven’t decided what it sounds like yet.”
Her face hardened.
“Oh, please.”
I pointed at Mom’s house on the form.
“Why is that listed?”
Silence.
Bianca glanced at Edward.
Wrong move.
“What?”
I leaned closer.
“Why did you count my mother’s home as part of my future assets?”
“She’s seventy-two.”
Rob’s face changed.
I felt something terrible inside me go completely still.
“What does that mean?”
Bianca exhaled.
“It means eventually the house comes to you.”
“My mother is alive.”
“I know.”
“Then why were you planning around her death?”
“I wasn’t.”
“You literally assigned a dollar value to it.”
“Mason, adults do estate planning.”
“My mother didn’t.”
Edward interrupted.
“Enough.”
I turned toward him.
“Did you know about this?”
“No.”
Bianca looked at him.
He looked at her.
Family communication happening without words.
I saw it.
“So you did.”
Edward’s jaw tightened.
“I knew Bianca was helping prepare financing.”
“Using my guarantee?”
“I assumed you had agreed.”
“You never asked.”
“You were marrying my daughter.”
I almost laughed.
There it was again.
Marriage as authorization.
Ownership.
Access.
I stood.
“The Whitmore project is over.”
Rob snapped his head toward me.
“Mason.”
Edward stared.
“You don’t have authority to make that decision alone.”
Rob did.
And he knew it.
Our partnership required both owners to approve projects above ten million dollars.
I looked at him.
Rob closed his eyes.
Then:
“He does if I agree.”
Edward leaned back.
“Do you?”
Long silence.
Rob looked at the fraudulent application.
Then at me.
“Yes.”
Edward’s face hardened.
“You’re walking away from thirty million dollars because Mason had a fight with his fiancée?”
Rob said:
“No.”
He tapped the application.
“I’m walking away because your daughter represented herself as authorized to borrow against my company.”
Bianca stood.
“This is insane.”
I looked at her.
“Was pushing my mother insane too?”
Her eyes filled.
“You want to punish me.”
“No.”
That surprised even me.
“I want distance.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You canceled a wedding, killed a business deal, and now you’re accusing me of fraud.”
“I’m not accusing you.”
I picked up the paperwork.
“I’m asking the bank to investigate.”
For the first time, Bianca looked afraid.
Edward stood.
“If you do that, I promise you this gets uglier.”
My pulse slowed.
Threat.
Clear.
I looked at him.
“Then I guess we’ll find out how ugly.”
After they left, Rob sat beside me.
“We just lost the biggest contract we’ve ever had.”
“I know.”
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“Good?”
“If you said yes, I’d worry.”
I laughed.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
My mother on the boutique floor.
Taken from behind a rack.
Bianca standing above her.
Then a second message:
I recorded the whole thing.
My heart pounded.
Who is this?
May you like
The response came immediately.
The consultant who helped your mom. My name is Emma. Bianca’s mother offered me $20,000 this morning to forget what I saw.
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