Chapter 3: The Message
The message was only one sentence.
But it changed the room.
*DON'T TELL MARCUS I USED THE CATERING MONEY. I'LL FIX IT AFTER THE WEDDING.*
Marcus read it over my shoulder.
His face went completely still.
Simone lunged forward.
“Give me your phone.””
I stepped back.
“No.””
“Darius, give me the phone!””
“No.””
“You have no right to show private messages!””
“You sent it to me.””
“That doesn't mean—”
Marcus held up a hand.
“Stop.””
Simone stopped.
He looked at her.
“Why did you use the catering money?””
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
I had known this moment would come eventually.
I just never imagined it would happen under crystal chandeliers, beside a wedding cake, with one hundred and fifty witnesses.
Marcus looked at me.
“How much?””
I hesitated.
“What?””
“How much money did she take?””
Simone answered before I could.
“None.””
I looked at her.
She swallowed.
Then she corrected herself.
“Not take.””
Marcus gave a humorless laugh.
“That's a strange distinction.””
“I borrowed it.””
“For what?””
“I needed it.””
“For what?””
She looked around.
The flowers.
The candles.
The towering wedding cake.
The gold-rimmed charger plates.
The champagne tower.
Then she said quietly:
“The ring.””
Marcus frowned.
“What about the ring?””
Simone looked down at her diamond-covered hand.
She had been wearing several rings that night.
Her engagement ring was the largest.
“I had to pay the final balance.””
Marcus stared at it.
“Your engagement ring?””
She nodded.
“You told me your father gave you the money.””
“My father helped.””
“That isn't what you told me.””
“I didn't want you to worry.””
Marcus shook his head.
“You used the catering money to pay for your ring?””
Simone's eyes filled with tears.
“I was going to replace it.””
“When?””
“After the wedding.””
“With what?””
She didn't answer.
Marcus looked toward me.
“Darius, how much did she owe you?””
I almost said nothing.
But the question wasn't really about me.
It was about how deep the lie went.
“Nothing,” I said.
Marcus frowned.
“Nothing?””
“She never paid me.””
Simone snapped.
“Because you said family didn't need to be paid!””
I looked at her.
“No. You said that.””
She shook her head.
“You know what I meant.””
“I know exactly what you meant.””
I took out my phone again.
“I have the messages from six months ago.””
I scrolled.
“June 3rd. You asked me for a menu.””
I scrolled again.
“June 7th. You asked me to design the appetizer table.””
Another swipe.
“June 15th. You asked for a tasting.””
Another.
“July 2nd. You changed the guest count from 120 to 150.””
Another.
“July 8th. You asked me to add late-night snacks.””
Simone stared at the phone.
“Stop.””
I kept going.
“July 21st. You asked for the dessert bar.””
“Darius, stop!””
“August 3rd. You asked me to provide servers.””
Marcus looked at her.
“You asked him for all of that?””
She wiped at her cheek.
“I was stressed.””
“You asked him for servers?””
“Yes.””
“Did you pay him?””
She shook her head.
“I was going to.””
I looked at Marcus.
“She also asked for a full cocktail-hour menu.””
Marcus's eyes widened.
“Cocktail hour too?””
I nodded.
“She wanted thirty-five thousand dollars' worth of services.””
Simone immediately interrupted.
“That's not true!””
I turned the screen toward her.
“You approved the estimate.””
She looked at it.
Her face tightened.
“That was just a proposal.””
“You told me to order the ingredients.””
“And you did?””
“Yes.””
“Then that's your problem.””
The words hit the room like a slap.
I stared at her.
“What?””
She folded her arms.
“You're a caterer. You should have known better.””
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Then I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because suddenly everything made sense.
She hadn't misunderstood.
She hadn't forgotten.
She hadn't been overwhelmed.
She had calculated.
Marcus looked at his bride.
“Simone.””
“What?””
“You knew.””
She didn't answer.
“You knew you hadn't paid him.””
“He's family.””
“That doesn't answer my question.””
She looked at the floor.
“Yes.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
I watched him take a slow breath.
Then he asked something I wasn't expecting.
“Darius, why did you still come?””
I looked at him.
“Because she's my sister.””
He nodded slowly.
“And you brought food?””
“For the tasting.””
“How much?””
“Enough for the twelve people she told me would attend.””
Marcus looked around the ballroom.
Then at the tiny plate.
“So that plate…”
“Yes.””
“That's all she ordered?””
“Yes.””
Simone shook her head.
“That's ridiculous.””
I looked at her.
“You ordered six samples.””
“For a wedding?””
“For a tasting.””
She suddenly turned toward the guests.
“Can everyone please stop looking at me like I'm some kind of monster?””
Nobody spoke.
She raised her voice.
“I was under pressure!””
A bridesmaid finally stood.
“Simone…”
“What?””
The bridesmaid hesitated.
“You told us dinner was included.””
Simone stared at her.
“I thought it was.””
Another guest spoke.
“You told us the reception menu was going to be incredible.””
“I was trying to make everything perfect!””
Mr. Callahan cleared his throat.
“Ms. Reed.””
Simone turned sharply.
“What?””
“There is another issue.””
Her expression hardened.
“What now?””
He checked his clipboard.
“The ballroom has a payment authorization problem.””
Marcus looked at him.
“What does that mean?””
Mr. Callahan glanced at Simone.
“She attempted to charge the remaining balance to a card yesterday.””
Simone's face changed.
“What are you talking about?””
“The card was declined.””
Marcus slowly turned toward her.
“Yesterday?””
Mr. Callahan nodded.
“We were instructed to hold the final payment until today.””
Simone looked at the guests.
“I was going to take care of it.””
Marcus's voice was almost a whisper.
“With what?””
She said nothing.
He stepped away from her.
“I'm going outside.””
Simone grabbed his arm.
“Marcus, please.””
He pulled free.
“Don't.””
Her eyes widened.
“Don't what?””
“Don't touch me.””
The words shattered whatever remained of the wedding illusion.
Marcus walked toward the ballroom doors.
Simone followed.
“Marcus!””
He stopped.
She stood several feet behind him.
Her veil trembled slightly as she breathed.
“I love you.””
He looked back.
“I know.””
“And I can explain.””
“You've had months to explain.””
He looked at the ballroom.
“At least tonight, I wanted one thing to be real.””
Then he walked out.
The doors closed behind him.
Simone stood there alone.
For the first time all night, she looked less like a furious bride and more like a frightened woman who had finally run out of places to hide.
My mother walked toward her.
“Simone…”
Simone turned.
“Mom, fix this.””
Evelyn froze.
“What?””
“You're my mother.””
“I know.””
“Make him come back.””
Evelyn glanced toward the doors.
Then at me.
Something passed between us.
A look I couldn't understand.
Not shame.
Not anger.
Fear.
I noticed it immediately.
“Mom?””
She didn't respond.
I stepped closer.
“What aren't you telling me?””
She looked at me.
“Nothing.””
I stared at her.
“You've been acting strange all night.””
“I've been trying to protect my daughter.””
“From what?””
She looked toward Simone.
Simone shook her head.
“Mom, don't.””
That was the first time Simone had sounded genuinely afraid.
I looked between them.
“What is it?””
Evelyn's eyes filled with tears.
“Darius…”
She lowered her voice.
“There is something about that agreement you don't know.””
I felt the room tilt beneath me.
I looked at the contract in my hand.
“What?””
My mother swallowed.
“Simone didn't sign it alone.””
I looked at the signature again.
Then I saw the second name beneath hers.
*Evelyn Reed.*
My mother's signature.
And beside it was a handwritten note I had never noticed.
May you like
Three words.
*Ask about the house.*
