Chapter 9 - Who Introduced Them
Ruth waited for me at a diner near the highway. She'd insisted on accompanying me to Vermont, but I'd asked her to stay outside the shop. I hadn't known whether I could bear an audience.
“He admitted he knew Nathan,” I told her over untouched soup.
Ruth sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
She gave me a folder she'd collected after contacting an old colleague from the accounting office. It contained publicly available business filings and a copy of a consulting agreement that had passed through the company's own records.
Martin had changed his last name to Kessler after his separation from Mother. Under that name, he advised Larkin Group on acquisitions in the luxury retail industry. The group planning to buy our stores had agreed to pay his consulting company a success fee if the deal closed.
“He doesn't need shares,” I said. “He gets paid when the workshop loses control of its designs.”
“Not exactly,” Ruth said. “He gets paid if this transaction closes. What happens to the designs depends on the contract.”
I hated her precision until I realized it was what I needed.
Back in New York, Maya reviewed the paperwork. “This explains why Martin cares. It doesn't prove he forged anything. Let's keep those questions separate.”
We requested the transaction's full conflict disclosures and the materials provided to board members. Esther called that evening to say a special committee had been formed to review the disputed proxy and Martin's role.
“Why wasn't he disclosed earlier?” I asked.
“That's exactly what the committee will examine,” she said.
Then Maya showed me one further item: an email from Nathan's corporate account, sent five months before we began dating.
Martin had written: Helena's daughter will eventually control the voting block. She has no interest in running the company. If you earn her trust, she'll be the easiest part of this.
Nathan's reply was only three sentences.
I met her at the museum opening.
She doesn't know who you are.
I can work with that.
I pushed the laptop away.
My marriage had not begun with a chance conversation at an exhibition. At least one person had entered that room with a plan.
Maya waited until I could breathe normally.
“We need this in the right hands,” she said.
“No,” I replied. “First I want the people in that workshop to know why Nathan is selling their jobs.”
May you like
“Emma. Don't send anything tonight.”
But on my phone, an email to the entire staff was already open.
