Yes, That’s right, Look.
The conference room fell silent the moment I walked in.
Every head and eye turned and tracked my movement from the door to the head of the table.
I intentionally took my time walking through the room.
I didn’t rush because I knew exactly what I was about to do and knew the kind of commotion it was going to cost.
Veronica was sitting three chairs away from me.
The moment our eyes met her face changed from being in control to something intense.
It was like she was already thinking about what she was going to get from me.
I really want to see the look on her face when she finds out what is going on.
She had no idea that I had something to use against her.
The room was filled with people, including my father’s three trustees, the lawyer who had been handling my father’s will since he died and a secretary who was taking notes in the corner.
Veronica was wearing a business suit, her hair was pulled back very tightly and her nicely done nails were tapping on the table in a way that showed she was getting impatient.
Before the lawyer could even open his folder I reached into my bag and slid the Marriage certificate across the fancy wooden table.
“I got married ” I said blatantly “before my twenty-fifth birthday.” The words landed and tore every civility around us apart.
Veronica stared at the paper wishing it to be a lie by looking at it really hard and then she picked it up.
The moment her fingers touched it I saw her face turn pale.
“This can’t be right, ” she said, sounding really scared.
She held the paper like it was going to hurt her reading the words loud, like that would make them not true.
“Sloane Della-Ross, Zane Della-Ross, Registry office, This is, ” She.
Looked up at me.
“This is a lie.” One of the trustees, a man named Hartwell who’d known my father for forty years, cleared his throat.
“Perhaps we should discuss having her husband present.
For the purposes of, ” “My husband,” I cut in, my voice smooth as glass, “is not the focal point of this conversation.
The focal point is that I am married.
As of two days ago.
Before midnight on my twenty-fifth birthday.” Veronica tossed the certificate back onto the table like it had burned her.
“It’s fake.
The whole thing is a farce.
I know my stepdaughter.
Every decision she makes is calculated.
This is a business arrangement, and when we dig into it, we’re going to find exactly what I’m looking for.” My father’s lawyer picked up the certificate and examined it carefully.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Mrs.
Reed.
This is a legitimate marriage certificate from the registry office in Seattle.
Filed and processed according to state law.
Verified.” “Then she paid someone.” Veronica stood, the desperation was morphing into fury.
“This is exactly the kind of thing she would do.
A fake marriage to some, what?
a gold digger?
Someone’s nephew?
Some desperate man willing to, ” “The groom is Zane Della-Ross.” Hartwell’s voice was quiet.
“Eldest son of the Della-Ross family.
Three-time board member.
I’d hardly classify him as desperate.” Veronica’s mouth opened and closed.
Then she tried another angle.
“It’s transactional.” She said, still standing, gripping the back of her chair.
“This is a business arrangement.
She needed to marry someone to keep the company, and he, ” She looked at me.
“What did you give him?
Money?
Shares?
What’s the catch?” One of the other trustees, a woman, leaned forward.
“Can you prove that, Mrs.
Reed?” “I, ” “Because,” The woman continued, “Unless you can demonstrate that this marriage is not legal, is not binding, or is fraudulent in some prosecutable way, there’s nothing to be done about it.
Miss Reed was married before her twenty-fifth birthday.
The condition of your late husband’s will has been met.” Veronica stood there for a long moment.
I could see her working through her options, running calculations, looking for a way out.
“You’re making a mistake!
All of you.
When this falls apart, when she divorces him in a year like everyone knows is going to happen, this board is going to be held responsible.
And I’m going to make sure, ” She didn’t finish, she just gathered her things and walked toward the door.
“This isn’t over, Sloane.” she finally said after she took a pause at the threshold.
“It is,” I said quietly.
“As far as you’re concerned, it’s finished.” She left.
The room exhaled.
I sat there for another moment not speaking, just letting the weight of what had happened settle.
Then I stood, thanked the trustees with practiced and automatic politeness and walked out.
The look on her face was priceless, I thought, smiling as I sat at my office trying to work on the stack of files Maya had prepared.
I wanted to review the quarterly reports so I opened my laptop and attempted to do it and yet something kept invading my mind.
Underneath it all was the taste of a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and raspberry filling.
The taste of someone knowing and watching me.
He had been the first to wish me a happy birthday while forcing me to open my mouth and taste what he’d chosen for me.
My hands were working but my head was somewhere dangerous.
Thankfully, the knock on my office door pulled me out of it.
“Come in,” I called.
Maya entered with her hands full with White lilies.
Long-stemmed and pristine with petals so pale they were almost luminescent against the green stems.
“These just arrived,” she said, with a slight smile on her face.
I could hear the curiosity in her voice.
She knew who they were from before I even asked.
“Who sent them?” She handed me the card which was small and white with a simple handwriting that I recognized from the contract I’d signed three days ago.
Happy birthday to my wife.
—Z That was it and yet it was a reminder that he’d been the first person to wish me a happy birthday.
My chest did something stupid.
It warmed up and because of it, I found myself smiling then I caught it.
“Put them somewhere in the office,” I told Maya, handing the card back to her, my voice steady and distant again.
But my hands were shaking.
I watched her arrange them on the shelf beside the window, white against the grey Seattle skyline, beautiful in a way that made my throat tight.
When she left, I stood there looking at them for far too long, and the taste of the cake came back.
This isn’t real, I thought, reminding myself of what was.