PART 6 — The Buyer’s Numbers Explained Why Grant Needed Me Out of the Way
I went to the smaller plant the next morning. It stood outside a town where the diner opened before sunrise for our first shift. Plant manager Tessa Morgan met me beside a line of newly serviced machines. She showed me the maintenance work completed that month and the orders scheduled through winter. Nothing supported Grant’s closure projection.
Tessa knew I had come because numbers had been questioned. She did not ask who had written them. Instead, she walked me through invoices, repairs, and staffing plans. At the end, she said, “People hear rumors quickly. If somebody’s thinking of selling us, I’d rather know what to tell my crew.” I promised to share confirmed decisions, not guesses.
On the drive back, I called Owen and asked him to preserve the plant’s actual reports beside Grant’s version. The difference was not a matter of optimism. Grant had used outdated repair estimates after newer figures were available. He had also excluded a signed customer renewal. Each omission made closure appear easier to justify.
That afternoon, Camille interviewed Sloane. I waited until evening for the summary because I wanted the process to be hers, not mine. Sloane acknowledged preparing the note in my name and the trust authorization. She said Grant had given her the older signature image and told her the family had agreed to use it.
She also corrected her account of the lobby. No one had bumped her elbow. She said she saw me near the elevators, panicked because Grant had told her I might arrive later, and turned too sharply. Camille asked why she called me a custodian. Sloane said she was embarrassed and angry, and had taken it out on me.
I could not tell from her words whether the spill had been deliberate. Camille did not claim to know. The distinction mattered less than Sloane’s willingness to treat a stranger that way. She had worked beside us for nearly three years. I had greeted her at company events, but she had been looking through me that morning.
Sloane said the watch was a gift from Grant after they began a relationship eight months earlier. She had believed he and I were separating. Grant had told her our marriage was private in name only and that my promotion depended on him declining the job. Both statements were false. Hearing them still made me put down Camille’s summary.
For most of the year, Grant and I had been distant. We were not separated. We had gone to Evelyn’s birthday together, slept in the same room, and talked about repainting the kitchen in spring. I could not make those ordinary facts erase the affair. I also could not pretend our marriage had been close simply because we shared a house.
Sloane said she began questioning Grant when he asked her to upload the note requesting account authority. He told her I had approved it verbally. Later, when he asked her to create the trust authorization, she noticed its date and asked why he needed an old signature. He told her it was a temporary draft for negotiations.
Camille had Sloane’s messages. In one, Sloane wrote, I don’t want my name on something Mara hasn’t signed. Grant replied, This is how family companies work. I’ll take responsibility. He did not take responsibility when Nina questioned the note. He had said I was unwell and asked for a postponement.
Rosa briefed the board that night. Grant was placed on leave, his company access suspended pending the review. Nina and the independent directors approved the decision. I did not vote. Rosa arranged for him to receive written notice at his lawyer’s office, because we did not want a workplace scene or another disputed conversation.
At home, I packed a suitcase. I planned to stay at Dad’s house until I could think clearly about the marriage. Grant arrived while I was folding a sweater. He had already received the notice. “You let them suspend me,” he said from the bedroom doorway. I set the sweater down and faced him.
“The board reviewed the records,” I said. Grant asked whether I had read Sloane’s interview. I told him I knew about the relationship. He looked at the suitcase and then at the floor. “I should have told you,” he said. It was the first unqualified thing I had heard from him in days.
I asked him when he had intended to tell me about Northline. He sat on the edge of the bed. He said he feared I would refuse a sale out of loyalty to Dad and that the company would miss its best chance. “And the four million?” I asked. He rubbed his forehead but gave no answer.
I told him I was staying elsewhere. Grant asked whether we could discuss it after the board review. “We’ve been discussing it,” I said. “You just called the discussions something else.” He looked toward the suitcase. I finished packing while he remained on the bed, and I left him the house keys on the dresser.
At Dad’s house, the heating clicked on as I carried my bag inside. I opened the windows in the study to clear the stale air and found a voicemail from Rosa. Camille had traced another payment out of Elm Harbor. It went to a company that owned an apartment Sloane had recently moved into.
Sloane had told Camille she paid rent herself. The ownership record alone could not establish what she knew about the consulting invoices. It did establish that company money might have helped support the apartment. I called Rosa back. She said Sloane’s lawyer wanted to provide more documents in the morning, including a message Grant had asked her to delete.
END PART 6
