Chapter Five: Half a Million Dollars

The first invoice was for ninety-eight thousand dollars.

The second was for one hundred twenty-four thousand.

By the time Julian displayed the fourth invoice on the conference-room screen, Cole Brand Strategies had received $486,000 from Whitmore Technologies over the previous fourteen months.

Vanessa sat beside Grant with one hand resting near her stomach, making a visible effort not to look in my direction. I couldn't entirely blame her. Discovering that your boyfriend's wife not only knew about you but also happened to control the investment firm examining your company's invoices would have been enough to ruin anyone's Monday morning.

Grant's chief financial officer, Daniel Mercer, looked considerably worse.

“Ms. Cole,” Julian said, “could you walk us through the services associated with the February invoice?”

Vanessa straightened in her chair. “Brand repositioning, market research, and strategic consulting related to the North American launch.”

“Do you have supporting work product?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We'll need copies.”

Grant leaned forward. “We've already provided documentation.”

Julian barely looked at him. “Not sufficient documentation.”

Grant's jaw tightened.

I remained silent.

That was deliberate.

Since walking into the room, Grant had watched me as though he expected me to attack him at any moment. I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction. This was not our kitchen, our bedroom, or the private dining room at Laurent.

It was a business meeting.

Whatever remained of our marriage had no place at the table.

That distinction seemed to unsettle him more than anger would have.

Daniel advanced to the next slide.

“Our projected liquidity improves substantially once the financing closes.”

“If it closes,” Evelyn corrected.

Daniel swallowed. “Yes.”

Grant turned toward her. “We've been a strong portfolio company for three years.”

“You've been a growing portfolio company,” Evelyn said. “Those are not synonymous.”

I lowered my eyes to hide a smile.

Aunt Evelyn could skin a person with grammar.

Grant launched into an explanation of Whitmore's acquisition strategy. I'd heard variations of the speech dozens of times over dinner, in bed, on vacation, and once during my mother's birthday party while she was cutting the cake.

At home, Grant had always sounded visionary.

In this room, with the numbers displayed behind him and the company's cash position laid bare, his strategy sounded considerably more reckless.

That realization hurt more than I expected.

For years, I'd admired his appetite for risk because I believed he understood the risks he was taking. Now I found myself wondering how much of that confidence had depended upon my never seeing the full picture.

Julian advanced to another slide.

“There's also the covenant certification.”

Daniel's face changed immediately.

Grant's did not.

That interested me.

“What issue?” I asked.

Julian looked toward Daniel rather than answering.

The CFO shifted in his chair.

“Our most recent certification reflected compliance with the leverage ratio.”

“And were you compliant?” I asked.

The silence that followed lasted long enough to answer the question.

Grant leaned forward. “Daniel.”

There was a warning in his voice.

Daniel looked at him, and something passed between the two men that I had never noticed before. It wasn't loyalty or mutual respect.

It looked remarkably like fear.

“No,” Daniel said finally. “We weren't.”

The room became very still.

Evelyn removed her glasses and placed them on the table.

Julian's tone grew quieter. “I'm sorry?”

“We weren't compliant.”

Grant pushed back from the table. “That is not accurate.”

Daniel looked almost gray now. “The acquisition adjustment wasn't permissible under the credit agreement.”

“You approved the calculation.”

“Because you told me legal had approved it.”

Every instinct I had sharpened at once.

Julian's expression changed too.

“Which lawyer?” he asked.

Daniel looked at Grant.

Grant said nothing.

Then Daniel turned toward me.

My stomach dropped before he even spoke.

“Mrs. Whitmore.”

For several seconds, I was certain I had misunderstood him.

“Excuse me?”

“Grant told me Camille had reviewed the calculation and confirmed that the adjustment was permitted under the credit agreement.”

Every person at the table looked at me.

I looked at my husband.

He avoided my eyes.

The humiliation at Laurent had been personal. As painful as it was, it belonged to the remains of our marriage.

This was different.

This touched my profession, my judgment, and the career I had spent more than a decade building without Monroe money, Monroe introductions, or Monroe Capital appearing anywhere near my résumé.

“Grant.”

He finally looked at me.

“It was a misunderstanding.”

“No.” My voice was calmer than I felt. “A misunderstanding is ordering sparkling water when someone asked for still. Did you tell your CFO that I provided legal advice approving a covenant calculation?”

“I said you'd looked at the documents.”

“That wasn't my question.”

“Camille, this isn't the place.”

From the other end of the table, Julian leaned back in his chair.

“I disagree.”

Grant glared at him.

Julian didn't so much as blink.

I kept my attention on my husband.

“Did you use my name?”

Grant hesitated. “I may have referenced a conversation we had.”

“What conversation?”

“You reviewed the credit agreement.”

“Three years ago.”

“I asked you about acquisition adjustments.”

The memory came back slowly.

Grant had been standing at our kitchen counter eating leftover Thai food while I finished reviewing a contract after work. At some point, he'd asked whether acquisition expenses could ever be excluded from leverage calculations.

I'd barely looked up from my laptop.

“Sometimes,” I'd told him. “It depends entirely on the agreement.”

That had been the entire conversation.

A casual answer to a hypothetical question over cold noodles had somehow become a legal opinion authorizing a financial covenant calculation.

I stared at him.

“You told Daniel that was legal approval?”

“I told him you'd reviewed the agreement.”

“No. You told him I approved the calculation. Those are not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Camille—”

“You will never use my name that way again.”

Something in my voice must have reached him because he stopped talking.

Evelyn closed the file in front of her.

“This meeting is adjourned.”

Grant turned toward her. “What about the financing?”

“The committee will reconvene after counsel reviews today's disclosures.”

“We need a decision.”

“You needed accurate covenant certifications,” Evelyn replied. “Apparently neither of us got what we expected today.”

Grant shoved his chair backward and stood.

Vanessa rose more slowly beside him.

As the room began to empty, she hesitated before walking toward me.

“Camille.”

Grant turned immediately. “Vanessa, let's go.”

She ignored him.

“I need to talk to you.”

I studied her face. “About what?”

Her eyes flicked toward Grant.

He had gone completely still.

That alone was enough to make me listen.

“Not here,” she said quietly.

Grant crossed the room.

“Vanessa.”

There was something in his tone that made her step away from him instead of toward him.

I noticed it.

So did Julian.

Vanessa looked back at me.

“He lied to me.”

Grant's expression hardened. “Stop.”

But Vanessa wasn't looking at him anymore.

“He told me you two had been separated for almost a year.”

For a moment, I couldn't speak.

“He said you were only still living together because of the company and because the divorce wasn't finalized yet.”

My eyes moved to Grant.

Seven years of marriage, and somehow, even after Laurent, he'd found another way to humiliate me.

Vanessa swallowed.

“And Camille?”

“Yes?”

“I didn't know he was using your name either.”