“You may ask.”
Paige finally met my eyes.
“Because you say no in meetings.”
The answer surprised me.
“What?”
“You become formal.”
“You ask for reports.”
“Valuations.”
“Outside opinions.”
“You slow everything down.”
I almost laughed.
“That is what governance is.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
Her mouth hardened.
“I thought if Grant explained it as family succession first, you would be more open.”
“To giving your company ten percent?”
Her face flushed.
“I thought once you saw how much I had contributed—”
“Then why hide the equity allocation inside a family restructuring package?”
She said nothing.
I continued.
“And the spa?”
Her eyes sharpened.
“What about it?”
“Why send the message from Grant’s phone?”
Her attorney turned.
That appeared to be news.
Good.
Paige looked at him.
Then back at me.
“I wanted you there.”
“Why?”
“So we could talk.”
“After you told me to eat in the restroom?”
She flinched.
Miriam held up a hand.
“Stay with the factual timeline.”
I nodded.
“Why did you send the message?”
Paige answered:
“I knew if I invited you from my phone, you might decline.”
“Why use Grant’s?”
“Because you always come when he asks.”
That one hurt.
True.
“And you intended to discuss the restructuring?”
“Yes.”
“At the spa?”
“No.”
“At dinner.”
“Did Grant know?”
“No.”
There.
The fake invitation had been designed to ensure I was present for a weekend where Paige planned to place a transfer proposal in front of me.
But the humiliation at Juniper House?
That had not been part of some elegant corporate scheme.
Paige claimed it erupted after she saw me arrive.
“You invited me.”
“I know.”
“But then Diane asked why you were joining us.”
“And I panicked.”
“Why?”
“Because I had told her you weren’t coming to the spa.”
I stared.
“So you lied to your mother too.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted time alone with her before dinner.”
“Then why invite me?”
Her eyes filled with frustration.
“Because I needed you at dinner.”
There it was.
Everything built on small lies until reality collided in a lobby.
The slap was not planned.
The cold water was not planned.
The restructuring was.
The fake message was.
The misuse of accounts had grown from entitlement into concealment.
Messy.
Ugly.
Human.
Miriam ended the interview.
Paige left without speaking to me.
Grant called that evening.
“What did she say?”
I almost answered.
Then stopped.
“You will receive the appropriate findings through the company.”
“Mom.”
“No.”
“This is exactly what we need to stop doing.”
“What?”
“Using family access to bypass process.”
He went quiet.
Then:
“Okay.”
That word sounded new from him.
Two days later, Celeste completed the first reconciliation.
The potential exposure dropped.
Some restaurant charges were legitimate.
Some jewelry gifts were documented.
Part of the consulting advance had actual work attached.
The unsupported amount was not seventy-eight thousand.
