Chapter 9: Gerald's Second Offer
He arrived at eleven.
No attorney.
No assistant.
Just Gerald Marston in a dark coat, standing in the reception area of Bennett Coastal Group as though he owned the building, which, Emma realized with a cold start, he might.
She had never checked who held the note on the property.
Ruth showed him to the conference room.
Emma came in last and closed the door.
Gerald looked at the printed email on the table.
Ruth had left it there deliberately.
"That was obtained without my son's consent," Gerald said.
"Good morning, Gerald."
He sat.
"I'm going to ask you directly.
What do you want?"
"I want the Harborview account restored."
"That's between you and Harborview."
"It is now," Emma said.
"It wasn't eleven weeks ago."
Gerald looked at the email.
"Cole made a poor decision.
I won't defend it.
But that decision was made by Cole, not by Marston Properties, and not by me."
"You knew about it six weeks ago and you let me keep planning a wedding."
"I was managing a sensitive family situation."
"You were protecting your son's engagement to a woman whose career he'd just sabotaged." Emma kept her voice level.
"And when that fell apart anyway, you offered her fifty thousand dollars to stay quiet about it."
Gerald's hands were flat on the table.
He didn't move them.
"What do you actually want, Emma?"
"I want Cole to send a written retraction to Harborview.
On Marston Properties letterhead.
Stating that the withdrawal was made in error and that Bennett Coastal Group was released without cause."
"That exposes Cole to—"
"I know what it exposes him to.
That's the point."
Gerald's jaw tightened.
"And if he does that.
You'll sign the confidentiality agreement."
"No."
A pause.
"Then what do you want the retraction for?"
"Because Patrick Solis deserves to know the truth about why his project was disrupted.
And because my colleagues at Bennett Coastal Group spent eighteen months on that pitch and they deserve to have their work acknowledged."
Gerald studied her.
"You're not going to sign anything."
"No."
"Then I have no incentive to ask Cole to send that letter."
"You have one incentive," Emma said.
"I haven't spoken to anyone outside this room yet.
No press.
No industry contacts.
No one." She paused.
"That's still true right now."
The room was very quiet.
Gerald picked up the email.
He looked at it for a long time.
"Cole is my son," he said.
"Whatever he did."
"I know that."
"You'd be burning a bridge with this family that you cannot rebuild."
"I know that too."
He set the email down.
"Give me until tomorrow morning."
Emma looked at Ruth.
Ruth gave the smallest nod.
"Tomorrow morning," Emma said.
"Nine o'clock."
Gerald stood.
He buttoned his coat.
At the door, he stopped.
"For what it's worth," he said, without turning around, "you were never Ellen to me.
I knew your name.
I just—" He stopped.
"It doesn't matter."
He left.
Ruth waited until the elevator doors closed.
"He's going to try to find a way to give you the letter without Cole losing too much," she said.
"I know."
"Can you live with that?"
Emma looked at the empty chair where Gerald had been sitting.
"I don't need Cole to be destroyed," she said.
"I need him to be accountable.
There's a difference."
Her phone buzzed.
It was a number she didn't recognize.
She answered.
"Miss Bennett." A woman's voice.
Crisp.
Professional.
"My name is Diane Cho.
I'm a reporter with the Port Mercy Courier.
I've received information suggesting that a significant local business account was withdrawn under irregular circumstances involving the Marston family.
I was hoping you might be willing to comment."
May you like
Emma's hand tightened on the phone.
Someone had called the press.
