Chapter 5 - The Woman in My Robe
Sloane requested a meeting on Thursday.
By then, I had moved out of the hotel and into a furnished apartment arranged through a legitimate short-term lease.
My bank accounts were secure.
My personal devices had been examined for unauthorized access.
And the independent investigators had preserved the company records relevant to Harbor Nine.
Adrian still called every evening.
I no longer answered.
Sloane contacted Margaret instead.
She offered to cooperate.
But she wanted to speak with me first.
Margaret advised against a private meeting.
I agreed.
So when Sloane entered the conference room, two attorneys and an independent investigator were present.
She wore a cream-colored suit.
Her hair was perfectly styled.
Her earrings were small pearls.
Nothing about her resembled the woman I'd found sleeping against my husband.
“Nora,” she whispered.
I didn't answer.
She sat across from me.
“I know you hate me.”
I looked at the investigator.
“Can we address the documents?”
Sloane swallowed.
“Yes.”
The investigator asked about the certificate.
Sloane said Adrian instructed her to prepare it.
She claimed she'd been told the trustee had already approved the transfer.
When asked why my signature appeared on the document, she looked down.
“Adrian said Nora had authorized the transaction from Baltimore.”
I stared at her.
“Did he tell you to use my signature?”
She nodded.
The investigator leaned forward.
“Describe exactly what he instructed you to do.”
Sloane hesitated.
Then she said Adrian had directed her to retrieve a previous certificate, reproduce my signature block, and use her authentication device to complete the upload.
She knew the document would appear to have originated from my credentials.
Margaret took careful notes.
“Why didn't you verify Nora's consent?” she asked.
Sloane's eyes filled.
“Because Adrian said we had no time.”
I almost laughed.
No time.
I'd been working seventy hours to save the company.
They'd found time for an affair.
Time for forged paperwork.
Time to rearrange the ownership of a billion-dollar enterprise.
But apparently, asking me a question was impossible.
The investigator asked about the emergency certificate.
Sloane admitted that Ruth's approval had never been provided to her.
She said Adrian told her the approval would arrive later.
Margaret looked up.
“Yet the certificate represented it as already obtained.”
Sloane nodded.
“Yes.”
The room fell silent.
Then she looked at me.
“Nora, I didn't know how far this would go.”
I studied her.
“Which part?”
She blinked.
“The transaction.”
“Did you know Adrian was married?”
Her face crumpled.
Margaret gently interrupted.
“Nora, let's keep the interview focused on facts relevant to the investigation.”
I looked away.
She was right.
But being right didn't make it painless.
The investigator continued.
Sloane described a series of meetings with Vincent Vale.
She said Vincent had pressured Adrian to complete the transfer before the Baltimore negotiations ended.
Why?
Because the Baltimore agreement limited the buyer's ability to reduce labor costs.
Once I returned with the signed protections, the economics of Vincent's proposed deal became less attractive.
He needed the ownership documents to appear effective before my agreement was formally circulated to lenders.
I felt sick.
They hadn't simply betrayed me while I worked.
They'd used my absence as an opportunity.
Then the investigator asked about a company called Eastwick Consulting.
Sloane went pale.
“What about it?”
“Your brother is a manager there, correct?”
She nodded.
Eastwick had received substantial consulting payments from Blackwater.
Sloane acknowledged that her brother had financial problems and that Vincent had offered him work.
She insisted she hadn't understood the full arrangement.
The investigator asked for supporting records.
Sloane agreed to provide them through counsel.
Nothing about her statements automatically cleared her of wrongdoing.
Cooperation wasn't innocence.
And an affair wasn't the same issue as a forged certificate.
But the facts were beginning to separate.
That mattered.
After the interview, Sloane asked me to stay.
Margaret looked at me.
I shook my head.
“No.”
Sloane stood.
“Nora, please.”
I stopped at the doorway.
She looked exhausted now.
For the first time, I could see the fear beneath the polished clothing.
“I cared about you,” she whispered.
I stared at her.
“I know.”
Tears ran down her face.
“You were always kind to me.”
I swallowed.
“I know that too.”
She stepped forward.
“Adrian told me your marriage was over.”
I looked at her.
“Did he tell you that before or after you put on my robe?”
She lowered her head.
I waited.
She didn't answer.
I opened the door.
Behind me, she whispered, “I'm sorry.”
I didn't turn around.
Some apologies arrive too late to protect anything.
That evening, I received a message from Adrian.
I know Sloane talked. Let me explain before you destroy us.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
Vincent has something on me.
My heart began pounding.
I forwarded both messages to Margaret.
She called immediately.
“Don't respond.”
“I won't.”
“Nora, there's something we need to discuss.”
“What?”
“The independent investigators found an older agreement involving Vincent.”
“How old?”
“Three years.”
I closed my eyes.
“What agreement?”
“A personal guarantee.”
I sat down.
Margaret continued.
“Adrian appears to have guaranteed a substantial debt connected to Vincent's private development company.”
I stared at the wall.
“How substantial?”
“Seventy million dollars.”
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then Margaret said the words that explained almost everything.
“If that debt is called, Adrian may face catastrophic personal losses. The Harbor Nine transfer appears to have been designed, at least partly, to resolve it.”
My husband hadn't forged my signature because he suddenly stopped understanding the rules.
May you like
He'd forged it because he'd broken those rules years earlier.
And now he wanted everyone else to pay for his mistake.
