Chapter 7 - The Wedding That Cost Too Much
Tiffany arrived at the hospital without makeup.
Naomi had never seen her that way.
She looked younger than twenty-nine.
Less like the woman from magazine-quality wedding photographs.
More like Lucas’s little sister.
She stood at the foot of the bed.
“I’m sorry.”
Naomi watched.
“For what?”
Tiffany swallowed.
“That my wedding became more important than you.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“I believe you.”
Tiffany exhaled.
Then Naomi added:
“But that doesn’t mean you know nothing.”
Tiffany froze.
“What does that mean?”
Naomi reached for water.
“Who paid for your wedding?”
Tiffany looked confused.
“Mom and Dad’s estate funds. Family.”
“Which account?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who handled invoices?”
“Mom.”
“Did you ever see vendor names?”
“Some.”
“Golden Vine Hospitality Services?”
Tiffany’s face changed.
Small.
But Naomi saw it.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Budget binder.”
Naomi waited.
Tiffany sat slowly.
“What is Golden Vine?”
“I’m not allowed to tell you what anyone else has found.”
“But you know it matters.”
“I know I saw it in another context and recused myself professionally.”
Tiffany stared.
“I thought it was Mom’s events company.”
Naomi’s pulse increased.
“Why?”
“She said it helps family events get wholesale rates.”
“When?”
“Last fall.”
“Did you know she owned it?”
“I assumed.”
Naomi almost laughed.
Unlike Lucas, Tiffany had never been told the Reed Fallon story.
“What did Golden Vine pay?”
“Flowers maybe. Transportation.”
“How much?”
Tiffany looked uncomfortable.
“My wedding cost a lot.”
“How much?”
“About eight hundred thousand.”
Naomi stared.
Tiffany’s face flushed.
“I know.”
“No judgment.”
“There is judgment.”
“There is surprise.”
“Same thing when someone spends eight hundred thousand on one day.”
Naomi smiled faintly.
“Fair.”
Tiffany continued.
“Graham’s family paid part. Mom paid part. Some vendors were ‘family partnerships.’”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
Naomi stared.
Tiffany saw it.
“There. That look.”
“What look?”
“The one Lucas gets.”
Naomi stopped.
Tiffany continued.
“You think we’re intentionally stupid.”
“No.”
“Maybe we are.”
She looked down.
“Mom would say, ‘Golden Vine is taking care of it.’ Or ‘The vineyard partnership covered that.’ Or ‘Foundation event credits offset the floral install because the same vendor did the harvest fundraiser.’”
Naomi’s professional instincts lit up.
Event credits.
Cross-entity offset.
Vendor consolidation.
Those phrases could be legitimate.
They could also hide cost shifting.
“Did your wedding share vendors with foundation events?”
“Almost all of them.”
“Why?”
“Mom gets discounts.”
Naomi asked:
“Do you still have the budget binder?”
Tiffany nodded.
“Can you preserve it?”
“Yes.”
“Do not give it to me.”
Tiffany frowned.
“Why?”
“Conflict.”
“Then who?”
“I’ll give you outside counsel contact.”
Tiffany stared at Naomi.
“You really won’t look.”
“I really won’t.”
“Even after what they did?”
“Especially after.”
Tiffany’s eyes filled.
“I don’t understand how you’re so calm.”
Naomi almost laughed.
“I spent twenty minutes crying before you arrived.”
“That helps.”
“Also drugs.”
Tiffany smiled despite herself.
Then became serious.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“The wedding planner complained about accounting.”
Naomi went still.
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“What did she say?”
“That invoices were being split strangely.”
“Explain.”
“One bill would go to Golden Vine. Another to Whitaker Hospitality. Another to foundation event account.”
“For the same service?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ask?”
Tiffany looked ashamed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Mom said it was tax allocation.”
Naomi closed her eyes.
Tax allocation.
The phrase people used when they wanted non-finance people to stop asking.
Tiffany continued.
“I told myself rich families do complicated things.”
Naomi looked at her.
“Sometimes they do.”
“And sometimes?”
“Complication is useful camouflage.”
Tiffany stared.
“You think my wedding was paid with charity money.”
Naomi answered carefully.
“I do not know.”
“But possible.”
“Yes.”
Tiffany began crying.
“This was supposed to be the best day of my life.”
Naomi’s expression softened.
“That’s why Marianne wanted it protected.”
“From what?”
“Reality.”
Tiffany looked up.
Naomi continued.
“She didn’t lock me away because cake mattered more than a baby.”
Tiffany’s face tightened.
“Then why?”
“Because the wedding was performing stability.”
“For the lenders.”
“Yes.”
Tiffany looked sick.
“So my wedding was a business meeting.”
“Partly.”
She stood and paced.
“Graham’s uncle is Hawthorne Capital.”
“I know.”
“Mom sat him next to North State.”
“Yes.”
“She changed seating two days before.”
Naomi raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“She said chemistry.”
“Maybe credit chemistry.”
Tiffany laughed bitterly.
Then stopped.
“I thought she was obsessed with appearances because that’s who she is.”
“She is.”
“But appearances were financially necessary.”
“Maybe.”
Tiffany stared at Naomi.
“What happens if Golden Vine is bad?”
Naomi did not answer.
Tiffany nodded.
“You can’t tell me.”
“No.”
She picked up her purse.
At the door, she turned.
“Lucas knew more than me.”
Naomi’s chest tightened.
“How do you know?”
“Because after rehearsal dinner I heard Mom ask him whether the ‘foundation receivable’ would clear before Hawthorne reviewed liquidity.”
Naomi went still.
“When?”
“Thursday night.”
“Exact words?”
“Something like: ‘If Hawthorne asks, the foundation receivable clears when Silverado closes.’”
Naomi’s pulse hammered.
“Did Lucas answer?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Tiffany thought.
“He said, ‘As long as they don’t drill into vendor detail.’”
Naomi stared.
Tiffany saw her face.
“Oh God.”
Naomi did not speak.
She could not investigate.
But she could remember.
And now she had a fact.
Not a suspicion.
Lucas knew enough to worry about vendor detail.
Tiffany whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Naomi looked at her.
“For what?”
“For giving you another reason not to trust your husband.”
Naomi’s eyes filled.
“No.”
She shook her head.
May you like
“He did that himself.”
---
