Chapter 10 - The Daughter Who Came Back
By late afternoon, I had learned how badly I'd failed the people who trusted me.
Daniel's preliminary review showed that Vale Atelier was losing money, but not for the reasons Nathan had claimed.
Sales hadn't collapsed.
Production quality hadn't deteriorated.
Customers hadn't abandoned us.
Instead, Nathan had redirected profitable orders to outside suppliers, increased management fees, and cut our purchasing budget so severely that unfinished work accumulated on the benches.
The financial pressure was real.
But some of it had been created by his own decisions.
Denise sat across from me while I reviewed an overdue supplier invoice.
"You knew it was bad?" I asked.
"I knew something was wrong."
"Why didn't you call me directly?"
"I did."
I looked up.
"Three times last month."
I remembered the messages.
I'd been in the middle of an argument with Nathan when the first arrived.
The second came while I was trying to convince him to attend marriage counseling.
The third I'd answered with a promise to speak to him.
Then I'd forgotten.
"I'm sorry," I said.
Denise looked at me for a long moment.
"Your mother wasn't perfect, Emma."
"I know."
"But when a supplier called, she picked up the phone herself."
I closed my eyes.
"I should have done that."
"Yes."
The honesty stung.
Then Denise pushed a notebook toward me.
"Here are the orders I think we can finish within six weeks if we get the materials."
I opened it.
Each page contained names, dates, quantities, and handwritten notes.
She'd kept the records because she no longer trusted Nathan's system.
I looked at the projected revenue.
"Why didn't you show these to Iris before?"
"Nathan told us Harrow had already decided."
I shook my head.
"Not anymore."
We spent the next three hours contacting customers, verifying orders, and building a production schedule.
Some clients were angry.
Others were relieved someone from the workshop had finally called.
One boutique owner in Boston offered to pay an outstanding invoice immediately if we could confirm shipment dates.
Another agreed to discuss a larger deposit against future orders.
Every conversation made our situation a little clearer.
None of them made the debt disappear.
At seven, Maya called.
"Your father is here."
I went still.
"Where?"
"My office. He drove down from Vermont."
"Why?"
"He wants to give a sworn statement about Nathan and Celeste's visit. He also brought the original design agreement."
I looked at the old notebook on my desk.
"Is he asking to see me?"
"He asked if you were safe."
I swallowed.
"Tell him I'm working."
Maya paused.
"He said he'd wait as long as necessary."
I almost laughed.
After seventeen years, my father had suddenly developed patience.
"Let him give his statement," I said.
"But tell him I'm not ready to talk."
When I ended the call, Denise watched me carefully.
"Your dad?"
I nodded.
"He's alive."
Her expression changed.
She remembered him.
She remembered the years after he vanished, when my mother worked late into the night to keep the business open.
"Oh, Emma."
I braced myself for sympathy.
Instead, Denise reached across the desk and squeezed my hand.
"You don't have to solve your whole life this week."
I looked at the stack of invoices.
"Apparently, my husband disagrees."
She gave a tired laugh.
May you like
Then she picked up another folder.
"Come on. We still have a company to save."
