Chapter 3: The Secret in Her Husband's File
I closed the folder before Vanessa could read the page.
“Business matters,” I said.
She glanced at Daniel, then at the documents tucked beneath my arm.
“Is that about Michael?””
The question came too quickly.
Daniel and I exchanged a brief look.
Vanessa noticed.
“Why are you looking at each other like that?”” she demanded.
“I asked you a simple question.””
“Your husband's application is confidential,” I replied.
“If he's applied for a position here, we'll communicate with him directly.””
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her handbag.
“He told me he hadn't heard anything from your restaurant.””
“Then perhaps he hasn't received an update yet.””
“You mean you haven't hired him?””
“I haven't made a decision.””
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
“Emily, listen to me. Michael is an excellent chef. He's worked in some of the best kitchens in Ohio. If you have any sense at all, you'll give him the position.””
The irony almost made me laugh.
Twenty minutes earlier, she'd treated me like someone who couldn't be trusted to pick up a napkin. Now she was asking me to decide her husband's future.
But there was no triumph in it.
Only a growing suspicion that the note in his file meant more than she wanted me to know.
“Your husband's qualifications will be evaluated fairly,” I said.
“That's all I can promise.””
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Fairly? You owe me at least that much.””
I stared at her.
“Why would I owe you anything?””
Her cheeks reddened.
“Because we went to school together. We have history.””
“Yes,” I said quietly.
“We do.””
For the first time, something uncertain flickered across her face.
Perhaps she remembered the girl who used to sit alone in the library during lunch. Perhaps she remembered the day she'd poured a carton of chocolate milk into my backpack because she'd decided my old clothes made me look pathetic.
Or perhaps she simply remembered that I now controlled something she wanted.
Whatever it was, the uncertainty vanished almost immediately.
“Don't make this personal,” she said.
I nearly smiled.
“You're the one who brought our high school history into this restaurant.””
Vanessa glanced toward her table. Her friends were pretending not to watch us, but the blonde woman had stopped eating altogether.
“Can we discuss this privately?”” Vanessa asked.
“There's nothing to discuss about the hiring process.””
“Then let's discuss the restaurant.””
“What about it?””
She lowered her voice.
“Michael knows people in this industry. Very important people. If you make the right decision, he could help you expand.
He could introduce you to investors. You wouldn't want to throw away an opportunity because of some childish grudge, would you?””
There it was.
The offer hidden inside the threat.
I had spent years learning to recognize people who mistook kindness for weakness. Vanessa had never changed her strategy. She simply wore more expensive clothes while using it.
“I'm not making hiring decisions based on personal relationships,” I said.
“And I'm certainly not making them based on pressure.””
Her mouth tightened.
“You're going to regret this.””
“Is that a threat?””
“It's advice.””
“Then I'll consider the source.””
She stared at me for several long seconds before turning sharply and returning to her table.
Daniel waited until she was out of earshot.
“Do you want me to pull Michael's application?””
“No. We follow the same process for every candidate.””
“Even if his wife is trying to influence the decision?””
“Especially then. I want facts, not assumptions.””
Daniel nodded.
“I'll arrange an interview with him and verify his references.””
“Good. And find out what happened at his previous restaurant.””
“I'll handle it.””
I slipped the folder into my office and returned to the dining room.
Vanessa's table had become quieter. Her friends no longer laughed at every comment she made. One of them was studying the menu with intense concentration, while another kept glancing in my direction.
I stopped at their table to check on the meal.
“Is everything tasting all right?””
The blonde woman looked up.
“Everything is wonderful. Thank you.””
Vanessa didn't look at me.
“Could we have the check?””
“Of course.””
As I turned away, I heard her mutter, “Unbelievable.””
I kept walking.
There were other tables to visit, employees to support, and a kitchen full of people working hard to give our customers a good evening.
For the next hour, I focused on them.
I helped a new server carry a tray of desserts. I checked on an elderly couple celebrating their fiftieth anniversary. I spoke with our chef about a supplier who had delivered an exceptional batch of lake trout.
Little things.
The ordinary details of a life I'd built one difficult day at a time.
When Vanessa's party finally left, she didn't look back.
But her unfinished glass of wine remained on the table, and beside it lay a business card.
I picked it up.
The card belonged to a private investment firm in Columbus. On the back, someone had written a phone number and three words in blue ink.
Call me tonight.
I turned it over again.
The name printed beneath the logo was Richard Hale.
I knew that name.
Hale Capital had recently approached me about financing the expansion of Aurelia into a larger flagship location. Their offer had been generous, but their representatives had insisted on a level of control I wasn't comfortable surrendering.
I'd declined the deal two weeks earlier.
Why was Vanessa carrying their business card?
I took it to my office and called Daniel.
“Did Vanessa mention anything about investors?””
“Not to me. Why?””
I showed him the card.
His eyebrows rose.
“That's interesting.””
“Interesting how?””
He reached for his phone.
“Because when Michael called about his application, he mentioned that he was trying to arrange a meeting with someone at Hale Capital.””
My stomach tightened.
“Did he say why?””
“No. But he sounded desperate.””
I looked at the handwritten message again.
Call me tonight.
The card had been left where I would find it. Vanessa had wanted me to see it.
But why?
Was she trying to pressure me through my restaurant's expansion? Was her husband connected to the investment firm? And what did any of this have to do with the investigation that had cost him his previous job?
Before I could ask another question, my office phone rang.
The caller ID showed an unfamiliar number.
I answered.
“Emily Carter speaking.””
A man's voice came through, low and hurried.
“Ms. Carter, my name is Michael Cole. I understand my wife visited your restaurant tonight.””
I glanced at Daniel.
“Yes. She did.””
“Then you need to listen to me very carefully. Whatever she told you about my application, don't believe it.””
I sat down slowly.
“Mr. Cole, I haven't spoken with your wife about your qualifications.””
“Good. Then there's still time.””
His breathing sounded strained.
“I'm asking you to withdraw my application before she finds out what I told your manager.””
“Your manager hasn't told me anything beyond the fact that you applied.””
“Then he hasn't told you about the money.””
I gripped the edge of my desk.
“What money?””
Michael fell silent.
When he spoke again, his voice had dropped to a whisper.
“The money that disappeared from my last restaurant wasn't stolen by me. I know who took it. And if Vanessa discovers I've told you, she'll—”
A sharp sound interrupted him.
Then a woman's voice came through the phone.
Vanessa's voice.
“Michael? Who are you talking to?””
The line went dead.
I stared at the receiver.
Daniel slowly lowered his phone.
Neither of us spoke for several seconds.
Then a new email appeared on my computer.
The subject line read:
*CONFIDENTIAL — HALE CAPITAL / AURELIA EXPANSION*
The message contained a single attachment.
A photograph of a signed financial document.
At the bottom was a signature I recognized immediately.
Vanessa Cole.
But it wasn't the signature on her husband's job application.
It was on a document authorizing the transfer of nearly half a million dollars from the restaurant where Michael had once worked.
May you like
And beside her signature was the name of the person who had approved the transfer.
Richard Hale.
