Chapter 4: The Man She Never Told Me About
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood her.
Daniel Cross.
Her former fiancé.
The man whose company had been investigating my father's property, asking questions about a private trust, and preparing a contract connected to the Harrington Hotel.
I looked at Nia, waiting for her to tell me there was some reasonable explanation.
She didn't.
Instead, she reached for my hand.
“Marcus, please let me explain.””
I stepped away.
“How long were you engaged to him?””
“Two years ago.””
“How long?””
“Almost eighteen months.””
The answer hit harder than I expected.
Eighteen months.
I had met Nia three years earlier at a charity fundraiser where she had been volunteering to organize the silent auction. She'd spilled coffee on my jacket, apologized six times, and spent the rest of the evening helping me remove the stain.
I remembered laughing when she told me she'd ruined the most expensive thing I owned.
I remembered how she looked at me when I said the jacket was replaceable but a good evening wasn't.
Six months later, I proposed.
And in all that time, she had never mentioned being engaged to another man.
“Why didn't you tell me?”” I asked.
Nia wiped her cheeks.
“Because it was over.””
“That doesn't answer my question.””
“Daniel and I had a terrible relationship. We broke up, and I wanted to move on.””
“By pretending he never existed?””
“I wasn't pretending!””
“You just told me you've spent the last several weeks meeting with him behind my back.””
Her face tightened.
“I didn't know he was involved with Sterling when I first met with them.””
Evelyn Brooks crossed her arms.
“That's difficult to believe, considering Daniel Cross is listed as the managing director on the company's correspondence.””
Nia turned toward the attorney.
“He didn't use his full name at our first meeting.””
“Then what name did he use?””
She hesitated.
“Dan.””
Evelyn's expression didn't change.
“And you didn't recognize him?””
“I did eventually.””
“When?””
Nia looked down.
“During the second meeting.””
I stared at her.
“And you continued working with him?””
“He said he wanted to make things right.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Make what right?””
“Our business relationship. Our past. Everything.””
My father adjusted the blanket across his knees.
“Did he tell you why he wanted information about the Harrington?””
Nia shook her head.
“He said Sterling was interested in managing the hotel's events.””
“And did you tell him that I was planning to give you a financial interest in the business?””
“No.””
Evelyn tapped the printed email with one finger.
“Someone told him. The message is quite specific.””
Nia's breathing became shallow.
“Maybe he found out from someone at the venue.””
“Maybe,” Evelyn replied.
“But until we know, the transfer stays suspended.””
Nia turned to me again.
“Marcus, please. I know this looks terrible, but I never intended to hurt you.””
I wanted to believe that.
The trouble was that every answer created another question.
“Did you love him?””
She stared at me.
“What?””
“Daniel. Did you love him?””
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Once.””
“Did you stop loving him before you met me?””
“Yes.””
“Then why did you keep meeting him?””
Her lips trembled.
“Because he knew things about me that I didn't want anyone else to know.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What things?””
She shook her head.
“Not here.””
I glanced around the ballroom.
Hundreds of guests were still standing in small groups. Some were pretending to study the floral arrangements. Others had given up pretending and were watching openly.
My father deserved an explanation.
So did I.
But I wasn't going to force Nia to reveal every private detail of her past in front of strangers.
“Evelyn,” I said, “can you give us a few minutes?””
She nodded.
“Of course. But I recommend that Arthur keep those documents secure.””
My father slipped the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“I'll do that.””
Evelyn stepped away with Patricia, speaking quietly near the entrance.
I looked at Nia.
“There's a private lounge beside the lobby. We'll talk there.””
She nodded quickly.
As I pushed my father's wheelchair toward the entrance, Nia followed us.
At the doorway, she touched my shoulder.
“Marcus, I can walk with you.””
I looked at her hand.
“I'm taking Dad somewhere comfortable. You can meet us there.””
She withdrew her fingers.
The small lounge was empty except for a leather sofa, two armchairs, and a coffee table holding a silver bowl of wrapped mints.
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, illuminating the dust floating above the carpet.
I helped my father position his wheelchair beside the armchair.
“Would you like some water, Dad?””
“No, son. Sit down.””
I pulled a chair close to him.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he reached over and squeezed my wrist.
“I'm sorry.””
I stared at him.
“For what?””
“For bringing this into your wedding day.””
I shook my head.
“Don't do that.””
“Marcus—”
“Dad, you didn't cause any of this.””
He looked toward the window.
“I should have told you about the hotel sooner.””
“Why didn't you?””
He gave a small, tired smile.
“Because I wanted to see how Nia treated people when she thought there was nothing to gain.””
The words settled over me.
“You knew?””
“I had concerns.””
“What concerns?””
He looked at his hands.
“Small things. The way she spoke to waiters when an order was wrong. How she treated the parking attendant when he couldn't find her reservation. The way she talked about people who weren't useful to her.””
I thought about the seating chart.
The table near the service entrance.
The way she had looked at his wheelchair as if it were a stain on the wedding photographs.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I might have been wrong. And because I know what it's like to have someone criticize the person you love.””
He smiled faintly.
“When your mother and I were young, my father didn't think she was good enough for me. He spent two years telling me I could find someone prettier, wealthier, more respectable.””
“What did you do?””
“I married her.””
He looked directly at me.
“And she gave me the best years of my life.””
My throat tightened.
“I thought Nia was like Mom.””
“So did I.””
The lounge door opened.
Nia stepped inside, her bouquet gone and her veil hanging loosely from one shoulder.
She looked smaller without the grand ballroom behind her.
“Can we talk?”” she asked.
My father nodded toward the empty armchair.
“Sit down, Nia.””
She hesitated before taking the seat opposite us.
For several seconds, she stared at her hands.
Then she began.
“Daniel and I met when I was twenty-six. He was charming, ambitious, and very good at making me feel like I was the most important person in the room.””
I listened without interrupting.
“He worked in commercial property development. At first, I thought we wanted the same things. We talked about building a business together, traveling, buying a house.””
She rubbed her thumb against the edge of her engagement ring.
“He proposed after a year. I said yes because I thought we were building a future.””
“What happened?”” I asked.
“He started controlling everything. My business, my friends, my money. He said I wasn't ready to make decisions without him. If I disagreed, he'd remind me how much he'd invested in me.””
She swallowed.
“When I finally ended the engagement, he told me I'd regret it.””
My father leaned forward slightly.
“Did he threaten you?””
“Not physically.””
“That wasn't my question.””
Nia looked at him.
“He said he could make sure no one in the industry would work with me again.””
I felt anger rise in my chest.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I was ashamed.””
“Of what?””
“That I'd spent eighteen months with someone who treated me like that. That I'd ignored the signs. That I was afraid he might be right.””
She wiped her face.
“When I met you, Marcus, you were different. You listened. You never made me feel small. You didn't care that my business was struggling.””
I remembered the evenings we'd spent eating takeout on my apartment floor because she'd been worried about rent. I'd helped her prepare proposals, reviewed invoices, and introduced her to clients who needed event planners.
I'd thought we were building something together.
“You could have told me about Daniel,” I said.
“I know.””
“Instead, you let him back into your life.””
“He contacted me through Sterling. He said he'd changed. He apologized for how he'd treated me.””
“And you believed him?””
“I wanted to.””
She looked at my father.
“He said the Harrington project could be the opportunity I'd always wanted. He told me Arthur was planning to give you a stake in the hotel, and that you might eventually have a role in the business.””
My father frowned.
“How did he know that?””
“I don't know.””
“Did you tell him anything about our family?””
She shook her head, then stopped.
Her eyes shifted toward the door.
“There's something else.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What?””
Nia took a trembling breath.
“Daniel didn't just ask me about the hotel. He asked whether Arthur had any health problems, whether his will was up to date, and whether you had power of attorney.””
My father went completely still.
I stood so abruptly that my chair scraped across the carpet.
“He asked about Dad's will?””
“Yes.””
“And you didn't think to tell me?””
“I didn't know why he wanted to know!””
“Then why did you keep meeting him?””
“Because he said it was part of the due diligence!””
I stared at her.
She began crying again.
“I know how it sounds. I know. But I thought he was trying to establish whether the business was financially stable.””
My father raised one hand.
“Enough.””
His voice wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
Nia stopped speaking.
“Did you provide him with any documents?””
She shook her head.
“Did you share private information about my finances?””
“No.””
“Did you sign anything?””
“No.””
Evelyn appeared in the doorway before my father could ask another question.
“Arthur, I'm sorry to interrupt. I've just spoken with my office.””
She held up her phone.
“The anonymous sender has provided additional correspondence. There's a signed document attached.””
Nia rose.
“What document?””
Evelyn looked at her.
“A preliminary management agreement between Sterling Advisory Group and a company registered under your business name.””
Nia's face drained of color.
“I never signed a management agreement.””
Evelyn turned the phone toward her.
“Then you may want to explain why your electronic signature appears on the final page.””
Nia stared at the screen.
Her lips parted.
May you like
And then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“That's not my signature.””
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