Chapter 3

The day Grant and Vanessa left for the hotel auction, I slipped the divorce agreement into the Harbor Point approval package.

Grant was in such a hurry to leave that he never read the title.

He simply signed every marked line.

The next morning, my attorney told me the divorce would be finalized in ten days.

Three days remained.

I called Robert Hayes.

He had once been my mentor. Now he ran an international real estate investment fund.

Three years earlier, its headquarters had offered me a position as Senior Investment Manager.

But Grant had just founded Whitmore Development. He said he needed me.

So I turned down the offer and helped him build the company, starting with our first run-down apartment building.

Robert had warned me not to sacrifice my career.

I hadn’t listened.

I had let love make the decision for me.

“Evelyn,” Robert said after a long silence, “are you sure you won’t stay for him again?”

“I’m sure. He already signed the divorce agreement.”

“What divorce agreement?”

The voice came from the doorway.

I turned around.

Grant stood outside the study, frowning at me.

Before I could answer, his phone lit up.

He looked down at the message, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

By the time he looked at me again, the smile was gone.

So was his question.

“Why are you making work calls this late?”

He had already forgotten what he had just heard.

I ended the call and set my phone down.

“I’m handling some work.”

Grant glanced at the files on my desk.

“You still haven’t finished the Harbor Point handover?”

“Almost.”

His frown deepened.

“Your efficiency has been getting worse lately. Vanessa officially takes over tomorrow. Don’t drag this out just because you’re bitter about losing the project.”

I didn’t explain.

He turned and went back to the bedroom.

A few minutes later, I heard him laugh.

He was sending Vanessa a voice message.

It was an easy, genuine laugh.

I couldn’t remember the last time he had sounded that way with me.

I closed the study door and returned to the fund’s investment reports from the past three years.

I had been away from the international market for too long.

I needed to catch up on new regulations, financing structures, and market changes.

For once, my attention was no longer on Grant.

It was back where it belonged.

On me.

“Are those international acquisition reports?”

I hadn’t heard Grant come back.

He picked one up, flipped through a few pages, and gave a short laugh.

“These deals are far beyond the scale of our company. Do you even understand what you’re reading?”

When Whitmore Development secured its first investment, I had built the entire valuation model.

But Grant had grown so used to me doing the hard work for him that he no longer saw it as expertise.

To him, it was simply what I was there to provide.

I gathered the reports and stacked them neatly.

“Just looking.”

Grant put the file down and didn’t ask another question.

He had no idea that in three days, I would become the youngest Regional Investment Director in the fund’s history.

And the first acquisition waiting for me was the downtown property Grant had wanted for years.