Chapter 3 - THE FIRST THING DANIEL CANCELED
Daniel did not end the reception.
His grandmother would not let him.
“You have two hundred people here,” Eleanor told him after changing into the navy dress she had brought in a garment bag. “Most of them didn’t put me on the floor.”
“You shouldn’t have done this.”
“I agree.”
Daniel blinked.
Eleanor dabbed the last traces of cream from her hair.
“I was angry that you wouldn’t listen. I decided to prove something instead of trusting you to learn it yourself.”
“That doesn’t make what they did okay.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
She met his eyes in the mirror.
“I’m telling you not to turn me into a saint because they behaved badly.”
That was Eleanor.
Even when Daniel desperately wanted one person to make the situation simple, she refused.
He returned to the ballroom.
The reception continued, but the atmosphere had changed.
Some guests knew.
Others only sensed something had happened.
Chloe remained at the head table, smiling whenever someone approached.
Victoria moved from relative to relative giving a version of events Daniel could practically hear from across the room.
A misunderstanding.
An unfortunate accident.
Eleanor had surprised everyone.
Harold disappeared into the west hallway twice to make phone calls.
Daniel noticed because Harold kept looking toward him afterward.
At eleven fifteen, Daniel’s phone buzzed.
A reminder from the Whitmore family office.
MONDAY — BELLAMY HARBOR PROJECT FUNDING AUTHORIZATION.
Daniel stared at it.
Nine months earlier, Harold had invited him to invest $850,000 in the conversion of an old Providence warehouse into a boutique waterfront hotel.
Daniel had agreed in principle.
The final transfer was scheduled for after the wedding.
Chloe had called it their first family investment together.
Harold returned from the hallway.
His eyes went immediately to Daniel’s phone.
Not Chloe.
Not Eleanor.
The phone.
Something tightened in Daniel’s chest.
He opened a new email to his family-office director.
Pause Monday’s Bellamy Harbor transfer until I speak with you personally.
Do not release funds.
He pressed send.
May you like
Across the ballroom, Harold’s own phone vibrated less than three minutes later.
Whatever message he received erased the remaining color from his face.
