Chapter 4: The Name She Never Mentioned
"That's not what it looks like," Cassandra said.
Daniel didn't lower the phone.
"Tell me what it looks like."
"It's a business meeting.
It was years ago.
I don't even remember —"
"His name is Warren Holt," Eleanor said.
She said it the way someone says a name they have been holding in their mouth for a long time, waiting for the right moment to set it down.
"You told Daniel you had never heard of him."
"I meet a lot of people."
"Warren Holt," Eleanor repeated.
"He approached our family eighteen months ago with an investment proposal.
Daniel turned him down.
Three weeks later, Daniel met you at the Whitmore fundraiser." She paused.
"You were seated at his table."
"That's a coincidence."
"You were seated at Warren Holt's table," Eleanor said.
"At an event Warren Holt organized.
That Daniel was invited to by a mutual contact who, it turns out, has been on Warren Holt's payroll for two years."
The room had gone completely still.
Even the baby had stopped making small sounds.
Cassandra turned to Daniel.
"You can't seriously be listening to this.
Today of all days — your own mother is doing this to you on your wedding day."
Daniel set the phone down on the windowsill.
"I asked her to look into it."
The words landed like something dropped from a height.
"You — what?"
"Three months ago," he said.
"After the Alderton dinner.
You said something about the east property boundary.
Something you shouldn't have known.
I told myself I was being paranoid." He looked at her.
"I asked my mother to check."
Cassandra's expression moved through several things in quick succession.
Surprise.
Calculation.
Then something that almost looked like respect.
"You've known for three months," she said.
"I've had questions for three months," he said.
"Now I have answers."
"Daniel." Her voice shifted — softer, more careful.
"Whatever Warren told you about his intentions, he's not a good man.
I was trying to protect you.
I was feeding him false information.
That's what the meeting was.
I was trying to keep him away from your family."
Nora spoke from across the room without looking up from her daughter.
"That's a very good answer."
Cassandra turned.
"Excuse me?"
"I said it's a very good answer," Nora said.
"It covers the photograph, explains the secrecy, makes you look loyal, and puts Warren in the position of the villain." She finally looked up.
"How long did it take you to think of it?"
"I'm not performing for you —"
"There's a second photograph," Eleanor said.
Cassandra went still.
Eleanor took the phone from the windowsill and turned it to the next image.
This one was taken outside — a parking structure, gray concrete, poor lighting.
Cassandra and Warren Holt standing close together.
Not at a table.
Not with documents between them.
His hand was on her arm.
She was laughing.
"That was taken six weeks ago," Eleanor said.
"Eight days after Daniel proposed to you."
The silence this time was different.
It had weight.
Cassandra looked at the photograph for a long moment.
Then she looked at Daniel.
"I want to speak to you alone," she said.
"No," he said.
"Daniel —"
"No," he said again.
Quietly.
Finally.
She looked around the room — at Eleanor, at Nora, at the handful of guests who had not found a reason to leave.
Her chin came up.
Her shoulders straightened.
The expression on her face resolved into something cold and deliberate.
"You're making a mistake," she said.
Daniel picked up the phone.
He looked at both photographs one more time.
Then he set it face-down on the windowsill.
"Tell me about Warren Holt," he said.
"All of it.
Starting from the beginning."
Cassandra was quiet for a moment.
When she spoke, her voice had changed entirely.
"You really want to do this here?" she said.
"In front of all these people?"
May you like
"Yes," said Eleanor.
"We do."
