“You should have left this with the receptionist,” Sterling said quickly, his voice sharp with irritation. “This credit line is what secures our entire future expansion, so do not touch those papers.”
He stopped himself, his gaze darting toward the leather portfolio tucked under his arm, before he smoothed his tie.
“I only wanted to make sure you had your schedule,” I said, my voice remaining even.
Victoria offered a small, thin smile that did not reach her eyes. “Sterling has a great deal on his mind, dear. The merger requires absolute focus.”
“I understand,” I said, stepping back toward the glass doors.
I walked back toward the reception desk, where Chloe, a young woman with neat brown curls, was sorting the morning mail into acrylic trays. She looked up and smiled, her eyes darting briefly back toward Sterling’s closed office door.
“He has been in meetings all morning,” Chloe said, lowering her voice as she leaned over the desk.
“Is it always this hectic before a merger?” I asked, resting my hand on the polished marble counter.
“It has been like this for weeks,” Chloe whispered, looking around the empty lobby. “Miss Hayes has been here almost every evening after six.”
“I thought she was only advising on the social events,” I said.
“They have been locking themselves in the conference room with the loan officers from Atlantic National,” Chloe said, sliding a stack of envelopes into a drawer. “The late-night couriers have been bringing over red-labeled folders nearly every day.”
“I see,” I said, my chest tightening slightly.
“Mr. Montgomery asked me not to log those deliveries on the main sheet,” she added, her eyes wide.
By nine that evening, the Newport estate was quiet, save for the low hum of the heating system. Sterling had gone out for dinner with his investment committee, and Eleanor had retired to her wing of the house hours ago.
I walked into the library, the scent of lavender furniture polish hanging thick in the air. The heavy mahogany desk sat in the corner, illuminated only by the pale light of the desk lamp.
I pulled open the bottom left drawer, where Sterling usually kept his personal correspondence. My fingers brushed past folders of utility bills and club memberships until they hit a thick, white envelope.
The envelope had the blue embossed logo of Atlantic National Bank in the upper corner.
