Chapter 3 - The Boy Who Never Received His Scholarship
Talia Reyes was crying when I found her in the employee dining room.
She immediately stood.
"Mrs. Morales!"
"Sit down, sweetheart."
She wiped her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here tonight."
I pulled out a chair.
"Richard told me about Eli."
Her expression changed.
"Oh."
"Can you explain what happened with the scholarship?"
Talia stared at the table.
Then she reached into her purse.
Inside was a folded letter.
The Vance Heritage Foundation logo appeared at the top.
Congratulations! Your child has been selected as a preliminary recipient of the Future Leaders Scholarship.
I read the letter carefully.
It promised financial assistance for educational programs, including music instruction.
The amount was substantial.
Five thousand dollars.
For Talia, who worked double shifts and supported Eli alone, it must have felt like winning the lottery.
"When did you receive this?"
"Four months ago."
"And then?"
"They asked me to send his school records and a recommendation from his music teacher."
"Did you?"
She nodded.
"Everything."
"What happened next?"
Her eyes filled.
"They invited us to a reception."
"Here?"
"Yes."
I frowned.
I hadn't attended that reception.
I'd been visiting another property.
Talia continued.
"They took pictures of Eli beside the piano. Beatrice told him he was a very special little boy."
I remembered the photograph in the foundation's advertising materials.
"Did he receive the scholarship?"
Talia shook her head.
"They said the money was delayed."
"Why?"
"Administrative problems."
She swallowed.
"Then they stopped answering my emails."
I looked at her.
"Did Eli know he'd been selected?"
She nodded.
"He told everyone at school."
My heart sank.
"How is he?"
Talia tried to smile.
"He says it's okay. He says maybe they found someone who needed it more."
I looked down.
That was the kind of answer a good child gives when he wants to protect his mother.
I knew it because Valerie used to do the same thing.
When she was eleven, our first major property was close to foreclosure.
I worked sixteen-hour days.
One night, I missed her school recital.
She told me it didn't matter.
But two weeks later, I found the program hidden beneath her pillow.
My name was circled in red beside the words Reserved for Family.
I had kept that program for twenty-four years.
I looked at Talia.
"What does Eli need right now?"
She hesitated.
"His music teacher says he has talent. But lessons are expensive."
I nodded.
"I can't promise anything on behalf of the Vance Foundation until we know what happened to the money."
"I understand."
"But I'd like to help him continue his lessons through a separate arrangement."
Talia's eyes filled.
"Mrs. Morales—"
"Please. Let me speak to his teacher first. We'll do this properly."
She covered her mouth.
"Thank you."
I took her hand.
"Thank you for telling me."
When I returned to Richard's office, Dana was waiting with Lauren Wu on speakerphone.
Lauren had been my attorney for fourteen years.
She didn't waste words.
"Eleanor, I've reviewed the materials you've sent."
"And?"
"We need to determine whether the foundation used your name without authorization and whether funds were misrepresented or diverted."
"Can you obtain their financial records?"
"We can request what they're obligated to disclose, preserve the documents we possess, and seek additional records through the appropriate process."
Dana leaned forward.
"I've identified three payments from event-related accounts to a company called Vance Advisory Services."
I frowned.
"Who owns it?"
"According to the records available so far, Harrison has a controlling interest."
"Amounts?"
"Three payments totaling approximately three hundred and twenty thousand dollars."
I stared at her.
"For what?"
"Strategic consulting."
I looked toward the window.
The city glittered beneath the snow.
Three hundred and twenty thousand dollars.
Enough to provide scholarships to dozens of children.
Enough to change families' lives.
And the company receiving those payments belonged to the man who had just ordered security to throw me out.
Lauren spoke.
"We need to establish whether those payments were legitimate. Don't accuse them publicly before we have the records."
"I won't."
"But preserve everything."
"I will."
We ended the call.
Richard cleared his throat.
"There's another issue."
I turned.
"What now?"
"The ballroom manager says Harrison wants the hotel's senior staff to join him for an announcement."
"What announcement?"
"He hasn't specified."
I stood.
"Then let's find out."
We entered the ballroom through a side door.
The atmosphere was extravagant.
Crystal chandeliers.
White roses.
Gold tablecloths.
A twelve-piece orchestra.
Harrison stood onstage with Beatrice beside him.
Mason and Valerie sat at the front table.
Valerie looked miserable.
Harrison tapped the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight is not only a celebration of forty years of marriage."
The audience applauded.
He smiled.
"It is also the beginning of an exciting new chapter for the Vance family."
I stopped walking.
Richard glanced at me.
Harrison continued.
"As many of you know, we have long admired The Marlowe House."
He gestured toward the magnificent room.
"And tonight, I'm delighted to announce that our family is in advanced discussions to acquire a significant interest in this extraordinary property."
The audience erupted.
Champagne glasses lifted.
Mason smiled for the first time all evening.
I stood motionless.
Richard whispered, "That's not true."
"I know."
Harrison raised his glass.
"To the future of The Marlowe House!"
I stepped into the aisle.
"Excuse me, Harrison."
His smile disappeared.
Every head turned.
I approached the stage slowly.
"You seem to have forgotten one important detail."
He lowered the microphone.
"Eleanor, this isn't the time."
I looked at him.
"Have I agreed to sell you anything?"
Silence.
Harrison forced a laugh.
"Business discussions are complicated."
"No," I replied. "This particular question is very simple."
I looked toward the audience.
"The Marlowe House is not being sold. No acquisition agreement has been signed, and no one is authorized to announce otherwise on my behalf."
Whispers spread through the ballroom.
Harrison's face darkened.
"Eleanor, you're embarrassing yourself."
I looked at him.
Then at the guests.
Then back at him.
"Funny. That's exactly what your family said about me outside."
I turned toward Richard.
"Please correct the record for our guests."
Richard stepped beside me.
"Mrs. Morales is the owner of The Marlowe House. The hotel has not entered into an agreement to sell an interest in the property."
Harrison's banker slowly lowered his champagne glass.
Mason stood.
"Perhaps we should discuss this privately."
I nodded.
"Yes. With our attorneys."
As I walked away, I saw Valerie reach for Mason's hand.
He pulled it away.
May you like
And for the first time that evening, my daughter looked at her husband the way I had looked at the scarf in the slush.
As though something she had spent years making had just been destroyed.
