The master bedroom always held the faint scent of cedarwood and lavender, a combination I had used for years to keep the Raleigh humidity from settling into the heavy mahogany wardrobe. It was six in the morning when I pulled Daniel’s slate-grey trousers from the willow laundry basket near the bathroom door.
A small piece of paper fell from the coin pocket, landing softly on the cream-colored rug.
I knelt to pick it up, unfolding the thermal paper under the single bulb of the closet vanity. It was a receipt for a three-hundred-and-forty-dollar designer silk tie from a high-end boutique on Fayetteville Street.
Daniel was standing by the mirror, already buttoning his pale blue dress shirt with steady, rhythmic movements of his fingers. He adjusted his collar, his hand rising to touch the smooth fabric of his necktie.
“What is that you have there?” he asked, his eyes catching mine in the glass.
“A receipt from Tuesday,” I said, holding the paper by its edge. “For an Italian silk tie.”
Daniel turned slowly, his face perfectly smooth under the morning light. He adjusted his tie again, tightening the knot against his throat with a quick tug.
“It is just a marketing expense, Claire, do not look into things that do not concern you,” he said.
His voice was soft but rapid, carrying the same easy cadence he used when pitching a new residential subdivision to the county planning board. He stepped closer and took the paper from my fingers, folding it back into his pocket.
“I bought it for the regional director of the bank,” he said. “We need him happy if we want the capital for the North Raleigh project.”
“Since when does the bank director wear three-hundred-dollar silk?” I asked, looking at his reflection.
“Since he started managing ten-million-dollar portfolios,” Daniel said. He did not look back at me as he slid his watch onto his wrist.
The bedroom felt suddenly cold, the autumn drafts from the old window frame pressing against my ankles. I walked back to the laundry basket and picked up another shirt, but my fingers felt clumsy against the cotton.
