Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN IN IVORY SILK
Celeste Whitmore had spent six years perfecting her place beside Grant.
She knew his schedules.
His passwords.
His business partners.
His weaknesses.
Most importantly, she knew how to make him believe every decision had been his own.
But the Halston Grand disaster threatened everything.
Grant's investors were furious.
His company's stock had fallen.
And Rafe Callahan had postponed a thirty-million-dollar contract.
Celeste stood in Grant's penthouse overlooking Central Park while he paced.
“You knew she was working there,” he said.
Celeste looked up.
“What?”
“Audrey. At the Halston.”
“I had no idea.”
Grant stared.
“Don't lie to me.”
She set down her coffee.
“Grant, you're upset.”
“She's been working for Callahan for eight months.”
“So?”
“So you handled the guest list.”
Celeste's expression tightened.
“That doesn't mean I knew.”
Grant approached.
“And the letters?”
She froze.
“What letters?”
“The ones my attorney says I sent Audrey.”
Celeste's face changed.
Just slightly.
But Grant saw it.
“You said she refused contact.”
“She did.”
“Then why were the letters returned?”
Celeste looked away.
“Because she moved.”
Grant stared.
“You told me she received them.”
Silence.
Celeste's voice sharpened.
“She didn't want you.”
Grant stepped back.
For the first time, he looked at his wife and wondered how much of their marriage had been built on things she'd chosen not to tell him.
Meanwhile, Audrey returned to work.
She expected whispers.
Instead, the hotel staff treated her with careful kindness.
The housekeeping director hugged her.
The concierge brought coffee.
A banquet server left a note on her desk.
You handled yourself with dignity. We're proud of you.
Audrey cried in the supply room for exactly three minutes.
Then returned to work.
At noon, Rafe appeared in her office.
“Walk with me.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Is that a request or an order?”
“A request.”
“Then yes.”
They walked through the hotel's quiet upper corridor.
Rafe stopped beside a window overlooking the city.
“I owe you an apology.”
Audrey frowned.
“For what?”
“Canceling the signing without considering what attention it would bring to you.”
She stared.
“I thought you did it because of Grant.”
“I did.”
“And because of the contract?”
“Yes.”
He looked at her.
“But I should have considered the consequences for you.”
Audrey was silent.
Then she said, “Thank you.”
Rafe nodded.
She smiled faintly.
“You're getting dangerously good at this.”
“At what?”
“Being reasonable.”
He looked offended.
“I'll try to recover.”
She laughed.
Then her phone rang.
Naomi.
Audrey answered.
Her expression changed.
“What?”
Rafe straightened.
Audrey listened.
Then whispered, “Are you sure?”
She ended the call.
Rafe waited.
Audrey looked at him.
“Naomi found something.”
“What?”
“The mailbox service where the letters were sent.”
May you like
She swallowed.
“It was rented by Celeste Whitmore.”
