Chapter 1 - The Door Without a Handle
“Where is it?”
Graham Mercer asked the question quietly, which seemed to frighten Owen Brennan more than shouting would have.
Behind them, the receptionist stepped away from her desk.
“Mr. Mercer, please wait.”
Graham stopped.
Not because Brennan reached for his elbow.
Because somewhere beyond the corridor, behind the expensive oak paneling and the frosted glass, he heard his wife say his name.
“Graham has nothing to do with this.”
Her voice was thin, strained, unmistakable.
Brennan closed his eyes.
Only for a moment.
Then Graham moved past him.
Conference Room Three stood at the end of a short hallway. Its glass walls had been darkened electronically. A small red light glowed beside the door.
There was no handle on the outside.
“Open it,” Graham said.
Brennan’s access card trembled against the reader.
The lock clicked.
Inside, Lydia sat at a long table with her coat folded across her lap. Her phone lay several feet away beside Sebastian Vale’s elbow.
A folder stood open in front of her.
She looked at Graham, then at the lilies.
Something broke across her face.
Not guilt.
Relief so sudden it looked painful.
“Graham.”
Sebastian rose smoothly.
He was taller than Graham expected, handsome in the carefully maintained way of men whose calendars included appointments for looking effortless.
“This is an unfortunate interruption.”
Graham ignored him.
“Lydia. Do you want to leave?”
She opened her mouth.
Sebastian answered.
“Your wife and I are discussing a confidential employment matter.”
“I asked my wife.”
The room went still.
Lydia stood, but Sebastian placed one hand over her phone.
“You should consider what happens if you walk out before we resolve this.”
Graham set the lilies on the table.
Their paper wrapping crackled loudly.
“What happens?”
Sebastian looked at Brennan.
“Give us a minute.”
“No,” Lydia said.
It was the first strong word she had spoken.
Brennan remained in the doorway.
Sebastian’s expression barely changed, but the room felt colder.
“Mr. Mercer, your wife has made a serious professional mistake. I am trying to give her a private way to correct it.”
“Then she can correct it with a lawyer.”
Lydia gripped the back of her chair.
Sebastian noticed.
So did Graham.
The chief executive slowly removed his hand from the phone.
“Perhaps we should discuss practical solutions.”
He took a pen from his jacket, pulled a sheet from the folder, and turned it toward Graham.
A number had been written near the bottom.
$250,000.
Graham stared at it.
“For what?”
“Consulting services. A transition arrangement. We can structure it appropriately.”
“I build furniture.”
“Then consider it an opportunity to expand.”
Lydia made a small, horrified sound.
Graham finally looked at her properly.
Her blouse was buttoned wrong at the wrist. There were red marks across the heel of one palm where she had pressed her nails into it. Her wedding ring rested on the table beside the folder.
For one terrible second, the ring almost undid him.
Then Lydia followed his gaze.
“My hand was swelling,” she whispered.
She picked it up immediately.
Sebastian sighed.
“This doesn’t need to become theatrical.”
Graham pushed the paper back.
“Keep your money.”
“You haven’t heard the terms.”
“I heard enough.”
He walked around the table and held out his hand.
Lydia took it.
At the doorway, Sebastian spoke again.
“If she leaves, I can no longer protect either of you.”
Graham turned.
There it was.
The sentence beneath all the expensive manners.
“From what?”
Sebastian’s eyes moved toward the open folder.
Graham followed them.
At the top of the first page was a company name.
MERCER WOODWORKS.
His company.
Below it sat an invoice for $486,000.
Graham had never billed anyone that much in his life.
The description read: Emergency Housing Furnishings, Phase Two.
At the bottom was his signature.
Or something close enough to make his stomach turn.
He reached for the page.
Sebastian closed the folder.
“Now,” he said softly, “perhaps you understand why your wife wanted this conversation kept private.”
Lydia’s hand tightened around Graham’s.
He looked at her.
“How long?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I found the invoices yesterday.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She lowered her head.
Outside the room, the receptionist appeared beside Brennan.
“I called building security,” she said. “They’re coming up.”
Sebastian’s face hardened.
“You did what?”
The young woman swallowed.
“Mrs. Mercer asked to leave. I heard her through the internal call before the line disconnected.”
For the first time since Graham entered the room, Sebastian looked uncertain.
Graham picked up Lydia’s phone.
May you like
Then he took his wife home.
He left the flowers behind.
