“She said Grant invited you.”
My stomach tightened.
“She told me the three of us were doing the spa before dinner.”
“So when she told me to leave—”
Diane’s face crumpled.
“I thought you had shown up because you changed your mind about the spa.”
“She said you had originally declined.”
That explained why Diane had looked confused in the lobby.
I had barely noticed her expression after the slap.
“She lied to both of us.”
“Yes.”
Diane wiped her eyes.
“I don’t understand why.”
I did.
Not completely.
But enough.
She needed me there.
Humiliated.
Angry.
Maybe destabilized.
Maybe eager to prove I still loved Grant by signing whatever came later.
Or perhaps she simply wanted a witness to my supposed intrusion.
Either way, the spa was not random.
I took the folder.
“Thank you.”
Diane nodded.
Then:
“If the treatments are mine, I will pay them.”
“We will sort out what you actually owe after the company review.”
“I don’t want you paying for something I used.”
“That is why we review first.”
She almost smiled.
“Grant gets that from you.”
“What?”
“The tone.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She laughed weakly.
Then left.
Monday morning, I arrived at Northstar at seven thirty.
Celeste was already there.
So was Miriam.
Grant came at eight.
Alone.
He looked worse than Saturday.
No tie.
Unshaven.
He stopped when he saw my cheek.
The bruise had spread.
He swallowed.
“Mom.”
“Not here.”
He nodded.
We entered the conference room.
Miriam sat at one end.
Celeste beside her.
I sat opposite Grant.
No Paige.
Grant noticed.
“Where is she?”
“I didn’t invite her.”
His jaw tightened.
“She’s part of this.”
“She is a vendor.”
“And your wife.”
“Yes.”
“Today we first review your conduct as president.”
His face changed.
President.
Not son.
He nodded.
Miriam began.
“Grant, this is not a disciplinary hearing yet.”
“Yet?”
“It is an independent review.”
