Chapter 2 - The Message He Should Never Have Sent
I read Grant’s last message until the letters seemed to detach from the screen.
Don’t talk to anyone from Northstar.
My first instinct was confusion.
My second was professional.
Grant had spent eleven years learning that there were two versions of me. There was Rachel Mercer, his wife, who forgot where she left her glasses and cried at dog adoption commercials. Then there was Rachel Bennett Mercer, senior strategy director at Northstar Advisory, who had once found a nine-million-dollar discrepancy because a vendor used a different font on three invoices.
Grant had just awakened the second woman.
I closed our message thread.
Then I opened my work email.
Northstar’s West Coast partnership involved a technology firm called Calder Systems. For six months, I had helped evaluate a proposed acquisition that could become the largest deal Northstar had ever advised. The financing side was being handled by Halcyon Capital.
Grant’s employer.
My stomach tightened.
Grant had told me his San Francisco conference involved institutional investors.
Lauren worked at Halcyon too.
Not in finance.
Compliance.
Suddenly, her presence beside him became more complicated.
I searched my inbox for Lauren’s name.
Nothing recent.
Then I searched “Halcyon.”
Forty-seven results.
Most were ordinary scheduling emails, diligence requests, meeting summaries.
One message stopped me.
It had arrived at 11:43 the previous night from Daniel Cho, Northstar’s chief legal officer.
Rachel — need fifteen minutes before tomorrow’s Calder meeting. Sensitive. Please don’t forward.
I had missed it while packing.
Below that was another message sent at 6:12 that morning.
We found irregular access to the Calder diligence room. Your credentials appear in the access log. I know you were not online at the relevant times. We need to discuss in person.
For a moment, the airplane disappeared.
My credentials.
Someone had used my access.
I looked toward row eleven.
Grant had returned to his seat. Lauren was no longer smiling. They were whispering urgently.
As if he felt my stare, Grant turned slightly.
I looked down before our eyes met.
My hands were cold now.
Three weeks earlier, Grant had borrowed my laptop because his battery died while we were visiting my mother. He had known my password for years.
At least, I thought he had.
Marriage turned certain forms of access into background noise. Phones charged on shared counters. Mail got opened accidentally. Passwords were known because somebody needed to print boarding passes while the other person showered.
Trust was efficient.
Until it became evidence.
I forwarded Daniel’s email to my private account, then changed my Northstar password using my phone.
Grant messaged again.
Rachel, answer me.
I did not.
Another message.
I can explain Lauren. But the work situation is bigger than us.
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
He had separated them already.
Lauren was personal.
Northstar was business.
As though betraying me had become a project with departments.
The seatbelt sign illuminated.
The captain announced our descent into San Francisco.
Lauren turned around.
This time, she found me.
The blood drained from her face.
She looked at Grant.
He must have told her.
For several seconds, none of us moved.
Then Lauren did something strange.
She shook her head.
Not at me.
At Grant.
It was small, almost invisible, but I saw it.
Grant leaned toward her sharply. Lauren whispered something. He reached for her arm, and she pulled away.
That was when I understood something else.
Whatever was happening between them, they were not united anymore.
The plane landed twenty-three minutes later.
The moment the seatbelt light disappeared, everyone stood at once, filling the aisle with shoulders and luggage.
Grant stayed seated.
So did Lauren.
So did I.
Eventually, the aisle cleared.
Grant stood first.
“Rachel.”
It was the first time he had spoken my name aloud since seeing me.
I put my laptop away.
Lauren stared at the floor.
Grant approached my row.
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“Please.”
I stood and reached for my bag.
He automatically lifted it from the overhead compartment for me.
The gesture was so familiar that for one terrible second, I nearly thanked him.
Instead, I took the handle.
“Why did you tell me not to speak to Northstar?”
His expression changed.
That was all I needed.
“Rachel—”
“Did you access Calder files using my credentials?”
“No.”
Too fast.
“Did Lauren?”
“No.”
Lauren looked up.
“Grant.”
He turned.
One word.
But there was warning inside it.
I looked between them.
“What is going on?”
Lauren stood.
Her eyes were red.
“Rachel, there are things you need to know.”
Grant stepped between us.
“Not here.”
Lauren laughed once, without humor.
“You’ve been saying that for six months.”
Six months.
My chest went hollow.
“How long?”
Neither answered.
I looked directly at Lauren.
“How long have you been sleeping with my husband?”
She flinched.
Grant glanced toward the flight crew.
“Rachel.”
“No. You don’t get to manage my volume.”
Lauren swallowed.
“Four months.”
Grant closed his eyes.
Four months.
Thanksgiving had been five months ago.
My birthday had been three.
Our anniversary had been two.
Four months meant Lauren had hugged me in my own kitchen while sleeping with my husband.
I nodded because my body needed something to do.
“And Northstar?”
Lauren looked at Grant again.
He said, “Don’t.”
She ignored him.
“Grant has been sharing information with someone involved in the Calder acquisition.”
Silence.
Even the flight attendant near the galley stopped moving.
Grant’s face hardened.
“That’s not what happened.”
Lauren continued.
“I found out six weeks ago.”
“And you kissed him?”
The question came out quieter than I intended.
Pain crossed her face.
“Yes.”
At least she did not insult me with an excuse.
“Why?”
Lauren wiped beneath one eye.
“Because I’m weak. Because I loved him. Because I kept believing him when he said he was going to tell you.”
Grant stared at her.
“You said you wouldn’t do this.”
Lauren turned on him.
“And you said Rachel wasn’t involved.”
My heart kicked.
“Involved in what?”
Grant looked suddenly exhausted.
“Rachel, listen carefully. Someone at Halcyon is manipulating the Calder deal. I discovered it months ago. I was trying to figure out who.”
“Using my credentials?”
“I never used them.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at him.
Eleven years taught you the difference between your husband lying and your husband being afraid.
Grant was afraid.
But I could no longer tell whether fear made him truthful.
My phone rang.
Daniel Cho.
I answered.
“Daniel?”
“Rachel, where are you?”
“San Francisco airport.”
There was a pause.
“Are you with Grant?”
I looked directly at my husband.
“Yes.”
“Get away from him.”
Grant must have heard Daniel’s voice through the phone.
His face went white.
Daniel continued.
“Security found something else this morning. Someone uploaded confidential Calder projections from your account at 2:14 a.m.”
“I was asleep.”
“We know.”
“How?”
“Because you were on a video call with me from the hotel in Milwaukee the first time your credentials were used last month.”
I remembered.
A client crisis.
Daniel and I had been on camera for nearly three hours.
“So you know it wasn’t me.”
“Yes.”
Relief came too early.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Rachel, the upload destination belonged to a shell company.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What company?”
“Mercer Strategic Holdings.”
Mercer.
Grant’s last name.
My married name.
I looked at him.
He saw the answer in my face.
“Rachel, I can explain.”
Daniel heard him.
“Leave the terminal. A car is coming for you.”
Grant stepped forward.
“Rachel.”
I backed away.
For the first time in eleven years, my husband looked like a stranger.
Then Lauren spoke behind him.
“There’s one more thing.”
Grant turned so quickly that his shoulder struck a seat.
“Lauren, stop.”
She ignored him.
Her eyes stayed on mine.
“The company isn’t registered to Grant.”
I frowned.
“Then who owns it?”
May you like
Lauren’s voice broke.
“You do.”
