Chapter 2 - The Folder on the Desk
“Kendra.”
Adrian placed his palm over the blue folder.
“Go home.”
She stared at his hand.
“Move it.”
“This is not the time.”
“That has my mother’s trust name on it.”
Brielle looked away.
That was enough.
Kendra turned toward her.
“What is that?”
Brielle rubbed her hands together.
“It’s not what you think.”
Kendra gave a brittle laugh.
“You’re going to have to be more specific today.”
Adrian stepped between them.
“It’s business.”
“My family trust is not your business.”
“The salon leases space from Dawson Row. That makes it business.”
Dawson Row was the small commercial building their mother, Evelyn Dawson, had purchased twenty-three years earlier.
The salon occupied nearly half of it.
After Evelyn died six years ago, the property had remained inside a trust benefiting Kendra and Brielle equally.
Kendra served as trustee until Brielle turned thirty.
Brielle had always hated that arrangement.
Adrian knew it.
Kendra looked at her sister.
“Were you discussing the trust with him?”
Brielle lifted her chin.
“You never discuss it with me.”
“We have quarterly statements.”
“You send statements. You don’t discuss anything.”
“That gives you permission to sit on my husband?”
Brielle’s face crumpled.
“No.”
“Then stop changing the subject.”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Kendra, people can hear us.”
“Good.”
Paige had disappeared from the hallway, but the silence outside the room told Kendra everyone was listening.
Adrian pushed the folder into a drawer and locked it.
Kendra watched him remove the key.
“Open it.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“That file concerns an offer on the property.”
Kendra felt a second shock.
“What offer?”
Brielle glanced sharply at him.
Adrian realized he had said too much.
Kendra saw it.
“What offer?”
He exhaled.
“A preliminary one.”
“You cannot negotiate the sale of trust property.”
“I wasn’t negotiating.”
“You have an offer in your locked drawer.”
“It was sent to me because I’m the largest tenant.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does commercially.”
Kendra held out her hand.
“Give me the folder.”
“No.”
Silence.
Her husband of eleven years had just refused to give the trustee documents concerning her own family trust.
The affair suddenly felt less like the center of the room.
And more like camouflage covering something underneath it.
Kendra picked up her lunch bag.
“Kendra,” Adrian said.
She walked out.
Brielle followed her into the hallway.
“Kendra, wait.”
Kendra kept going.
“Please!”
Several clients looked up.
Kendra stopped beside an empty manicure station.
She turned slowly.
“How long?”
Brielle froze.
Kendra’s voice stayed low.
“How long have you been sleeping with my husband?”
Brielle’s eyes filled.
“Eight months.”
The number struck harder than Kendra expected.
Eight months.
Thanksgiving.
Christmas.
Kendra’s birthday.
Their mother’s memorial dinner.
Brielle had attended all of them.
Adrian stepped into the hallway.
“That’s not exactly—”
Kendra pointed at him.
“Not another word.”
Then she looked at Brielle.
“Eight months?”
Brielle whispered, “Yes.”
Paige stood behind the reception counter, pale.
Kendra approached her.
“Paige.”
“Yes?”
“How long have you worked here?”
“Fourteen months.”
“How long have you thought Brielle was Adrian’s wife?”
Paige looked toward Adrian.
His face hardened.
“Paige, don’t get involved.”
Kendra looked at her.
“I’m asking you.”
Paige swallowed.
“Maybe… six months.”
Brielle closed her eyes.
Kendra stared at her sister.
“So this wasn’t hidden here.”
Paige shook her head quickly.
“I’m sorry. I truly didn’t know.”
“How were you introduced to her?”
Paige hesitated.
Adrian stepped forward.
“That’s enough.”
Paige’s expression changed.
For the first time, she looked angry.
“You introduced her.”
The salon went completely quiet.
Paige looked at Kendra.
“He brought Brielle to the staff holiday dinner in February.”
Kendra’s stomach turned.
“He said, ‘This is my wife.’”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Kendra, I can explain that.”
She looked at him.
February.
Five months ago.
Adrian had told Kendra that dinner was employees only.
She had stayed home.
Kendra backed toward the front door.
The meal bag shook slightly in her hand.
Brielle whispered, “I never asked him to call me that.”
Kendra met her eyes.
“But you didn’t correct him.”
Brielle said nothing.
Kendra stepped outside.
Sunlight hit her face.
She stood on the sidewalk, unable to move.
Then Paige came through the door.
“Kendra?”
Kendra turned.
Paige held something.
A folded piece of paper.
“I probably shouldn’t give you this.”
“What is it?”
“I found it beside the copier last week.”
Kendra opened it.
It was a photocopy of a commercial purchase proposal.
Buyer:
NORTHSTAR HOLDINGS LLC.
Property:
DAWSON ROW.
Proposed purchase price:
$1,350,000.
Kendra stared at the figure.
Dawson Row had been appraised eighteen months ago at $2.2 million.
Her pulse began pounding.
She looked at Paige.
“Why did Adrian have this?”
Paige hesitated.
“Because the man from Northstar has been meeting with him for months.”
Kendra looked down at the proposal again.
At the bottom, beneath the buyer’s information, was a handwritten note.
Three words.
Brielle agrees. Proceed.
May you like
Kendra recognized the handwriting.
It belonged to her husband.
