Chapter 6 - The Woman With My Necklace
I met Selina in a coffee shop in Cambridge because neither of us trusted the other enough to choose somewhere private.
She arrived ten minutes early.
I arrived fifteen.
That mattered to me for reasons I could not explain.
She was not wearing the necklace.
Of course she was not.
Without Flynn’s office, without the silk blouse, without the expensive perfume I had smelled when I walked in on them, she looked younger.
Not innocent.
Just younger.
She had tied her hair into a low ponytail and wore a gray sweater that might have come from any department store in America.
“You came,” she said.
“I almost didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I’m not here to make you feel better.”
Her mouth tightened.
“I know.”
We sat.
Neither of us ordered coffee.
Selina took a small flash drive from her purse and placed it on the table.
“What’s on it?”
“Emails. Expense approvals. Some messages.”
“Between you and Flynn?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the drive.
“Why are you giving me this?”
“Because he fired me.”
That was honest enough to be useful.
“Suspended.”
“He told HR I acted outside my authority and misclassified expenses without his knowledge.”
I almost laughed.
“So now you’re the fraud.”
“Apparently.”
“Were you?”
Selina looked at me.
“No. I knew the affair was wrong. I knew the necklace was excessive. I knew the apartment arrangement was inappropriate. But I did not invent the accounting codes.”
“Who did?”
“Flynn.”
“Can you prove it?”
She pushed the drive toward me.
“Yes.”
I did not touch it yet.
“How did this start?”
Her eyes dropped.
“You really want to know?”
“No.”
That surprised her.
“I want to know what affects my daughter, my divorce, or the company. I do not need the romance.”
Selina looked embarrassed.
“Fair.”
She folded her hands.
“He told me you were separated emotionally. Said you stayed together for Evie and public appearances.”
“We do not have public appearances.”
“I know that now.”
“He told you I knew?”
“Yes.”
“And you believed him for two years?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
Selina’s eyes filled.
“The money.”
I waited.
“He started asking me to approve things through departments I didn’t understand. Vendor gifts. Travel. Consulting invoices.”
“Why would you approve them?”
“Because I was his assistant. He said it was normal executive administration.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
Her jaw tightened.
“I don’t know because some expenses were not mine.”
There it was.
“What does that mean?”
“Flynn used the same codes before me.”
I leaned forward.
“For what?”
“I found old charges routed through client retention and relocation accounts. Different names. Different women. One payment went to a company connected to a former procurement director.”
I felt something colder than jealousy.
This was no longer about gifts.
“What company?”
“Marston Advisory.”
I knew the name.
Vance Global had paid Marston millions over the years for international procurement consulting.
“Do you have records?”
“Some.”
“Why did you keep them?”
“Because I stopped trusting him.”
I almost said welcome to the club.
I did not.
Selina looked toward the window.
“When the meeting ended, he screamed at me for sitting on him where the camera could see.”
I stared.
“He blamed you?”
“He said I had ruined everything.”
“What did you say?”
“That he forgot to end the call.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
Selina did too.
The moment felt wrong.
Human.
Complicated.
I hated that.
“I’m not forgiving you,” I said.
“I didn’t ask.”
“Good.”
“I am sorry, though.”
I looked at her.
She did not look away.
“I am sorry I participated in something that hurt you and Evie. I am sorry I believed a story because it made my choices easier.”
That landed differently than excuses.
I nodded once.
Then I picked up the flash drive.
“Did Flynn ever ask you to destroy records?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
My hand froze.
“What exactly did he say?”
She unlocked her phone and showed me a message.
DELETE THE PERSONAL EXPENSE FILES. LEGAL DOESN’T NEED NOISE.
I read it twice.
“Send this to yourself somewhere secure.”
“I already did.”
“Good.”
She looked surprised.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Say it.”
“You sound like you’re back at work.”
I sat back.
“I am.”
For the next hour, Selina walked me through Flynn’s expense habits.
The necklace had been purchased on a corporate card.
The apartment was hidden inside a relocation budget.
There were private flights that had never carried clients.
Luxury hotel charges during weekends Flynn told me he was at investor retreats.
But one cluster of transactions bothered me more than the rest.
Monthly payments to Marston Advisory had increased by nearly forty percent in the last eighteen months.
The invoices used vague phrases.
Strategic sourcing.
Vendor optimization.
International facilitation.
I had spent years reading euphemisms like that.
They usually meant one of two things.
Nothing.
Or something someone did not want described.
I took the flash drive directly to Elliot.
He called the board’s forensic accountant.
Priya called a handwriting expert about the supposed marital agreement.
By four, my personal betrayal had split into three investigations.
The affair.
The corporate expenses.
The forged signature.
I should have been overwhelmed.
Instead, I felt the old part of my brain waking up.
The part that followed money.
The part Flynn had once loved when I used it to help his company and resented when I used it to question him.
At five thirty, I picked Evie up.
She climbed into the car holding a paper crown.
“I’m queen of sharing.”
“That sounds powerful.”
“I let Jonah have my purple crayon.”
“Historic leadership.”
She smiled.
Then she became serious.
“Daddy says he might lose his job because you’re mad.”
I closed my eyes for one second.
Flynn had done it again.
Turned a child into an audience.
I pulled over.
“Evie, listen to me. Daddy’s job is something grown-ups are handling. It is not because Mommy is mad.”
“Did Daddy do something bad?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“Like hitting?”
“No.”
“Like lying?”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
She thought about that.
“Will he still be my daddy?”
“Yes.”
The answer came easily.
Whatever happened to Flynn as CEO, husband, or shareholder, I would not erase him from Evie’s life unless he gave me a reason involving her safety.
I had spent years being controlled.
I would not become controlling just because the power shifted.
That night, Elliot called.
His voice was different.
“Mabel, we found something in the Marston payments.”
I stood by the kitchen window.
“What?”
“Marston is not independent.”
“Who owns it?”
“A holding company in Delaware.”
“And that company?”
He paused.
“The beneficial owner appears to be Grant Vance.”
Flynn’s uncle.
The man who had served as Vance Global’s chief operating officer for fifteen years.
The man who had quietly retired six months before my father died.
I looked at the dark reflection of my own face in the glass.
“How much has Vance Global paid him?”
“Over eleven million dollars.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
May you like
The necklace was not the scandal.
It was the glittering little mistake that had made everyone finally open the books.
