PART 2: THE WOMAN AT THE HEAD OF THE TABLE
“He offered me a job cleaning the company toilets,” I told Rebecca. “Then he told my son he was only trying to help.”
Rebecca said nothing for a moment.
“Margaret—”
“I’m not asking you to investigate him because he insulted me.”
“Then what are you asking?”
I watched the light change at the empty intersection ahead.
“I want to know how he treats people who can’t call you.”
That was the question that kept me awake that night.
Not the laughter.
Not Vanessa’s expression when she looked at my dress. I had lived long enough to survive a room full of fools.
But Richard had made that joke easily.
Comfortably.
A man didn’t learn to humiliate people over one dinner.
He practiced somewhere.
“Keep this confidential,” I told Rebecca. “Preserve the records before anyone asks questions. And don’t let his office choose which employees you speak to.”
“Understood.”
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Monday’s meeting. Tell him the ownership representative will attend.”
“Not the owner?”
“No.”
I turned onto the quiet road toward my cottage.
“I’d hate to spoil his weekend.”
Daniel was waiting on my porch when I arrived home.
His car sat beneath the maple tree, and he was leaning forward on the steps with his hands clasped between his knees, the way he used to sit after losing a basketball game.
Only this time, he wasn’t sixteen.
And this wasn’t something I could fix with a sandwich and a drive around the block.
“I thought you were taking Vanessa home,” I said.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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