Chapter 3 - Morning at the Savoy
By dawn, the rain over Manhattan had turned into a steady, gray mist that washed the city clean. I sat in a high-backed armchair in a private corner suite at the Savoy, a pot of chamomile tea cooling beside a stack of red-labeled folders. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the yellow cabs moved like miniature toys along the avenue far below.
Across from me sat Eleanor Vance, lead counsel and my godmother. She was sixty-two years old, had silver hair cut like a razor, and possessed a reputation that made corporate executives settle cases out of court just to avoid facing her across a deposition table.
""The filings are certified,"" Eleanor said, removing her reading glasses and sliding a fresh croissant toward me. ""Eat something, Jacqueline. You need the energy, and the boy needs nourishment.""
I took a small bite, surprising myself by finding that my appetite had returned. For weeks, the anxiety of knowing Ambrose was lying had tied my stomach in knots. Now that the truth was laid out, a strange, crystalline peace had settled in my chest.
""How bad is the collateral damage?"" I asked.
""For you? Nonexistent,"" Eleanor replied with a wolfish grin. ""For Ambrose? Catastrophic. The private investigator’s photos from the Beaumont Hotel were delivered to his personal inbox and the executive board at seven sharp this morning. Twelve high-resolution photographs documenting his late-night visits over the last four months. At the same time, our temporary restraining order froze the executive bonus pool.""
My phone buzzed against the table. The screen lit up with sixteen missed calls from Ambrose, four from his personal assistant, and three from his mother, Evelyn Blackwell.
""Evelyn wants to mediate, no doubt,"" Eleanor observed. ""She called my office twenty minutes ago, claiming this was a private domestic dispute that shouldn't affect the family name.""
""Evelyn knew,"" I said evenly, watching the rain hit the glass. ""Last month at the Met Gala, she told me that men like Ambrose required 'leeway' to manage their stress. She patted my belly and told me a wise wife learns to look at the ceiling when storms blow through.""
""Well, the ceiling just fell on her son,"" Eleanor said dryly. ""The Blackwell board of directors has called an emergency session for two o'clock this afternoon. They want Ambrose removed as chief executive officer before the financial markets open tomorrow morning. The Wall Street Journal has already caught wind of the debt restructuring.""
I touched my wedding finger. The pale indent where the gold band had rested for five years was still visible, a faint white ring against my skin. It looked like a scar that was finally starting to heal.
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""I won't let him settle quietly, Eleanor,"" I said. ""He needs to understand that women aren't assets he can write off when he finds a shinier model.""
""Oh, my dear,"" Eleanor chuckled, tapping the thickest red folder. ""He isn't going to settle quietly. He’s going to surrender unconditionally.""
