Chapter 4
She placed another document in front of me.
The company Reid planned to acquire was called Northstar Analytics.
I recognized the name.
Reid had mentioned it once months earlier, calling it “a dying competitor with outdated technology.”
The purchase price was $9.6 million.
Our company would pay half upfront.
Four point eight million.
Monday’s transfer.
“Who owns Northstar?” I asked.
Evelyn slid over another page.
I read the ownership structure.
Then I stopped.
Thirty-two percent belonged to a holding company registered in Delaware.
The beneficial owner was Camille Foster.
I stared at it.
“She owns part of the company Reid is buying?”
“Yes.”
“If the acquisition closes…”
“She receives approximately three million dollars before taxes, depending on final adjustments.”
I sat back.
The humiliation at the wedding suddenly looked different.
Camille hadn’t simply confessed that she loved my husband.
She had been making money with him.
A lot of money.
“Does Reid own any of it?”
“We’re investigating.”
Dad finally spoke.
“But we found something else.”
He turned his laptop toward me.
An email.
From Reid.
To Camille.
Three weeks earlier.
Subject: Monday.
The message was short.
Once Nora signs, her board rights are suspended immediately. Transfer clears afterward. Keep everything quiet until then.
My chest tightened.
Below it was Camille’s reply.
And if she asks why she needs to sign on the honeymoon?
Reid:
She won’t. She trusts me.
I read that sentence twice.
She trusts me.
Three words.
That was what five years had been reduced to.
Not love.
Not partnership.
A vulnerability.
Dad reached for the laptop.
I stopped him.
“Wait.”
There was another email beneath it.
Camille:
And after the acquisition?
Reid:
Then we finally stop pretending.
I looked away.
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“I can remove him this morning.”
“No.”
Both Dad and Evelyn looked at me.
I swallowed.
“I want him at the board meeting.”
“Nora—”
“I want Camille there too.”
Evelyn studied me.
“For what purpose?”
“Can we require Reid to explain the transaction?”
“Yes.”
“And Camille is a financial beneficiary.”
“Yes.”
“Then invite them.”
Dad understood before Evelyn did.
A slow expression crossed his face.
Not a smile.
Something colder.
“You want them to walk in thinking they can still save it.”
“Yes.”
At 10:30, Reid arrived.
Camille came eleven minutes later.
They entered separately.
That almost made me laugh.
After everything, they were still pretending.
Reid wore the navy suit he had worn to our rehearsal dinner.