Chapter 6 - Rebecca’s Board Learned Where She Spent Her Sundays
Rebecca stared at the photograph.
Then handed me the phone.
I looked at it.
The image had been taken the second Sunday.
Jaime and Lily were arguing over pancakes in the corner of the frame.
Rebecca was laughing.
I was looking at her.
Not casually.
I hated how obvious that was.
“Who sent this?”
“Blocked internal relay.”
Martin held out his hand.
Rebecca passed him the phone.
He inspected the metadata.
“Corporate security camera.”
Her jaw tightened.
Victor had already left.
I looked at her.
“What does ‘tell Ethan why you first came’ mean?”
She did not answer.
“Rebecca.”
“Not here.”
I laughed without humor.
“We’ve established that phrase isn’t helping.”
She glanced at the children.
“Tonight.”
“Where?”
“My office.”
“No.”
She blinked.
“I’m not walking into the headquarters of the company threatening Frank.”
“Fair.”
“Tell me here.”
She looked toward Lily.
I understood.
Not the children.
“Fine. Back office.”
We went inside.
Rebecca closed the door.
For the first time since I met her, she looked unsure how to begin.
“The first Sunday wasn’t entirely accidental.”
There it was.
“What does that mean?”
“I had seen Maple Street on the development map.”
“You said you discovered it Monday.”
“I discovered the legal parcel Monday.”
“That is lawyer wording.”
“Yes.”
“Try again.”
She looked ashamed.
“The project map listed Maple Street as a relocation site before I knew what Maple Street was.”
“And?”
“I drove past the previous Thursday.”
“Why?”
“I sometimes visit properties anonymously before final planning.”
“In your wheelchair?”
She gave me a look.
“I remain disabled when conducting corporate due diligence, Ethan.”
I winced.
“That came out wrong.”
“Yes.”
“Sorry.”
“Accepted.”
She continued.
“I saw the diner. I saw Frank helping an older customer into a taxi. I saw you and Jaime leaving.”
“You saw us?”
“Yes.”
“Before Sunday.”
“Yes.”
“Why did that matter?”
“It didn’t. Not then.”
“So what happened Sunday?”
“I came back because I wanted to see the inside.”
“As CEO.”
“At first.”
“And Frank’s niece seated you with us.”
“Yes.”
“So that part was accidental.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
She looked down.
“You made me forget why I was there.”
I said nothing.
“I know that sounds convenient.”
“It does.”
“But it’s true.”
She took a breath.
“I intended to spend ten minutes assessing tenant condition, foot traffic and accessibility constraints.”
“Accessibility constraints.”
“You want me to lie?”
“No.”
“The entry threshold is poor. The restroom is technically grandfathered but inadequate. Table spacing makes turning difficult near the counter.”
“You still came back.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because none of that was the only thing the place was.”
I waited.
“Lily liked Jaime.”
“That explains her.”
“I liked you.”
Direct.
No smile.
No softening.
Just truth.
My anger lost its footing.
Not disappeared.
Lost its footing.
She continued.
“Then Monday I found the property file and realized Sloan owned the redevelopment vehicle.”
“So you should’ve told me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew exactly what would happen.”
“What?”
“You would stop looking at me like Rebecca.”
I stared at her.
“And start looking at the company.”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t give me the choice.”
“I know.”
That mattered.
No excuse.
No defense.
Just admission.
“Now your board thinks I’m what? A conflict?”
“You personally? Maybe.”
“Great.”
“They may argue my relationship with you influenced a corporate decision.”
“What relationship?”
She looked at me.
I regretted the question immediately.
A little.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Would you like me to prepare a term sheet?”
Despite myself, I laughed.
“There she is.”
Her smile appeared.
Then vanished.
“This is serious.”
“I know.”
“If the board removes me from this decision, Victor controls the project.”
“Can they?”
“Yes.”
“Can they remove you as CEO?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
The word sat between us.
I thought of Victor’s warning.
Be very certain what Table Six is worth to you.
“You could lose your job over a diner.”
“Technically over governance.”
“Rebecca.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t turn it into business language.”
She looked tired.
“I could lose my job.”
I leaned against the desk.
“I don’t want that.”
“I know.”
“Frank wouldn’t either.”
“I know.”
“So step away.”
Her face changed.
“You mean that?”
“If your career is on the line.”
“What about Maple Street?”
“We fight another way.”
“With what?”
“Community pressure. Lawyers. The trust. The covenant.”
“The covenant may be forged out of existence.”
“Then we prove it.”
“You make that sound easy.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“I make it sound like your daughter deserves a mother who doesn’t blow up her life because she likes our booth.”
Rebecca’s eyes softened.
“This is not just about liking your booth.”
“Then what is it?”
Before she could answer, Lily knocked.
“Mom?”
Rebecca opened the door.
Her daughter held an orange crayon.
“You said I could use your notebook.”
“I did.”
“There’s a phone call.”
“For me?”
“For Mr. Ethan.”
I frowned.
“Who knows I’m here?”
Lily shrugged.
“Frank said it’s a lady from the newspaper.”
My stomach dropped.
We returned to the counter.
Frank covered the receiver.
“Portland Ledger.”
“No.”
“She asked whether you’re romantically involved with Rebecca.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Already?”
Martin checked his phone.
“Story posted three minutes ago.”
He turned the screen.
Headline:
SLOAN CEO HALTS $180M PROJECT AFTER SECRET MEETINGS WITH TENANT SUCCESSOR.
Below it was the photograph of Rebecca and me.
Another photograph showed Lily and Jaime.
My anger came back instantly.
“They used the kids.”
Martin nodded.
“Blurred faces, but yes.”
Rebecca’s voice went cold.
“I want the source.”
Frank spoke into the phone.
“Ethan declines comment.”
Then hung up.
Customers were beginning to check their phones.
Whispers spread.
Lily looked at her mother.
“Are we in trouble?”
Rebecca bent slightly closer.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Lily appreciated that answer more.
Jaime approached me.
“Dad, what does romantically involved mean?”
Frank turned away so fast his shoulders shook.
“Later.”
Jaime sighed.
“Adults invented that word too?”
“Apparently.”
Rebecca’s phone rang.
Board chair.
She answered.
“Rebecca.”
A man’s voice.
“Tomorrow’s session has been moved up.”
“To when?”
“Six p.m. tonight.”
Rebecca looked at the clock.
10:14 a.m.
“Why?”
“New information.”
“What information?”
A pause.
“The board received financial records suggesting Ethan Brooks was promised an ownership interest in Maple Street three months before you halted redevelopment.”
I stared at Frank.
He stared at me.
“No.”
Rebecca said:
“That’s impossible.”
The chairman continued.
“We have a signed document.”
Frank went pale.
I whispered:
“I never signed anything.”
Rebecca’s eyes locked on mine.
May you like
The chairman said one final sentence.
“It has Ethan’s signature on it.”
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