Chapter 2 - Pick It Up
Caleb did not answer Nathan.
He set his champagne glass on the nearest table.
The soft click of crystal against marble somehow carried through the ballroom.
Then he walked toward the trash.
Sloane noticed him halfway there.
Her smile returned immediately.
“There you are,” she said. “Everyone’s been looking—”
Caleb walked past her.
Three hundred people watched one of the wealthiest men in Connecticut stop beside a catering cart and stare into a black plastic trash bag.
The crooked gold package lay among damp cocktail napkins and discarded lemon wedges.
Caleb reached inside.
“Caleb,” Sloane whispered.
He lifted the package out.
A smear of champagne had darkened one corner. The crooked red bow was crushed.
Caleb studied it for several seconds.
Then he looked toward the hallway through which Grace had disappeared.
“Who gave me this?”
Sloane gave a tiny laugh. “This really isn’t necessary.”
His eyes moved to her.
The laughter died.
“Who gave it to me?”
Nathan answered from behind him.
“Grace’s little girl.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
Sloane lowered her voice. “Can we discuss this privately?”
“No.”
The word was quiet.
That made it worse.
Caleb held the package carefully, as though its value had nothing to do with what was inside.
“What did Lily say when she gave this to you?”
Sloane’s expression hardened.
“She interrupted a private event.”
“This is my house.”
“She’s an employee’s child.”
“She’s three.”
Several guests lowered their eyes.
Sloane stepped closer. “You’re humiliating me over a housekeeper.”
Caleb looked at her for a long moment.
“No,” he said. “You did that yourself.”
He turned away.
Grace had reached the staff corridor when she heard footsteps.
She was trying to put Lily’s coat on while Lily cried against her shoulder.
“Mommy, was my present bad?”
Grace closed her eyes.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Did I do bad?”
That question nearly destroyed her.
Grace crouched and held Lily’s face.
“You did nothing wrong. Nothing. Do you understand me?”
Lily sniffled.
Then she looked past her mother.
Her eyes widened.
Caleb stood at the end of the corridor holding the gold package.
Grace immediately stood.
“Mr. Westbrook.”
He approached slowly.
Lily hid behind Grace’s skirt.
Caleb stopped several feet away and crouched.
“I think somebody accidentally put my birthday present in the wrong place.”
Lily peeked around her mother.
“It was the trash.”
“I know.”
“She threw it.”
“I know that too.”
Lily studied him with the solemn suspicion only a hurt child could manage.
Caleb lifted the package.
“Would you still let me have it?”
Lily looked at Grace.
Grace could barely speak.
“It’s your decision, baby.”
After several seconds, Lily stepped forward.
She took the package from Caleb, hugged it once, then offered it back.
“Happy birthday, Mr. Caleb.”
Caleb accepted it with both hands.
“Thank you, Lily.”
Her lip trembled again.
“I picked it.”
“Then I already know I’m going to like it.”
“You don't know what it is.”
A tiny smile touched his mouth.
“Fair point.”
Lily considered this.
“Open it.”
Caleb sat directly on the polished hallway floor.
Grace stared at him.
His tuxedo probably cost more than her car had before the transmission died, but he seemed not to notice.
He carefully removed the crooked bow.
He did not tear the paper.
Lily noticed.
Inside was the leather journal.
Caleb went completely still when he saw his initials.
His thumb moved across them.
“C.W.,” Lily announced proudly.
“I see that.”
“Mommy said you write.”
Grace's cheeks warmed.
Caleb looked at her.
For a strange second, the corridor became very quiet.
“You remembered that?”
“It was nothing.”
“No,” Caleb said. “Apparently it wasn’t.”
He opened the journal.
The first page contained five words written in purple crayon.
Lily had insisted on writing them herself.
HAPY BIRDAY MR CALEB. LILY.
Caleb stared at the letters.
Something in his expression changed.
His father had died when Caleb was twenty-one. His mother had followed six years later. Birthdays since then had become corporate obligations disguised as celebrations.
There were watches worth eighty thousand dollars waiting for him in the ballroom.
A vintage Aston Martin from Nathan.
A first-edition Hemingway from a board member.
None of them had required a three-year-old to practice writing his name.
“This,” Caleb said quietly, “is my favorite present.”
Lily finally smiled.
Grace looked away before either of them saw her eyes fill.
Then heels clicked behind them.
Sloane.
She had followed.
“Caleb, enough.”
He rose.
The warmth disappeared from his face.
Sloane glanced at Grace.
“You can go.”
Caleb's eyes sharpened.
“Don't give orders to my employees right now.”
“Your employees?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting choice of words considering the spectacle you're creating over one of them.”
Grace stiffened.
Caleb handed the journal to Nathan, who had arrived behind Sloane.
“Grace,” Caleb said, “please take Lily somewhere comfortable. Mrs. Alvarez can arrange a car to take you home.”
“You don't need—”
“I know.”
Grace hesitated.
“Thank you.”
She picked Lily up.
As she passed him, Lily waved.
Caleb waved back.
Sloane waited until they disappeared.
Then she whispered, “You just made me look cruel in front of everyone.”
Caleb stared at her.
“I didn't make you do anything.”
“It was a cheap notebook.”
Nathan quietly stepped away.
Sloane realized her mistake one second too late.
Caleb's face became unreadable.
“You think this is about the notebook?”
“Don't be dramatic.”
“I watched a three-year-old wonder what she'd done wrong because you wanted to remind her mother where she belonged.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
Sloane folded her arms.
“I was protecting standards in your home.”
“My home.”
“Yes.”
“Not yours?”
Her expression shifted.
“Soon it will be ours.”
Caleb looked at the engagement ring on her hand.
Their wedding was seven weeks away.
Six hundred invitations had already been mailed.
Politicians, executives, celebrities, investors.
The merger between Westbrook Technologies and Mercer Capital was expected to be announced two days after the honeymoon.
Their relationship had become intertwined with billions of dollars.
But Caleb suddenly realized something terrifying.
He had spent eighteen months examining every financial risk in the Mercer deal.
He had spent almost no time examining the woman wearing his ring.
Sloane touched his arm.
“Come back to the party.”
Caleb stepped away.
“Not yet.”
He walked into his study and closed the door.
Nathan followed.
Caleb placed Lily's journal on his desk.
For a minute, neither man spoke.
Then Nathan said, “You know I never liked her.”
Caleb looked at him.
“Not helping.”
“I'm aware.”
Caleb opened the journal again.
Five purple words.
Nathan leaned against the desk.
“That wasn't the first time.”
Caleb's head lifted.
“What?”
Nathan hesitated.
“Sloane treating staff like that.”
Caleb's voice changed.
“How many times?”
“I don't know.”
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Maybe because people who need their paycheck don't usually complain about the billionaire's future wife.”
The answer landed hard.
Caleb looked through the glass doors toward the ballroom.
He could see Sloane laughing again.
Perfect posture.
Perfect smile.
Perfect control.
His phone vibrated.
A message from his chief financial officer.
Need to talk before Mercer merger vote. Something isn't right.
Caleb read it twice.
Then another message arrived.
This one from an unknown number.
If you marry Sloane Mercer, Grace Miller won't be the only employee you destroy. Check the household accounts. Start with February 14.
Caleb stared at the screen.
Nathan saw his expression.
“What?”
Caleb slowly locked the phone.
“Get the guests out.”
Nathan straightened.
“Why?”
Caleb looked through the glass again.
Sloane had turned toward him.
Their eyes met across the crowded ballroom.
She smiled.
May you like
Caleb didn't.
“Because,” he said, “I think somebody just told me why Sloane was so desperate to keep Grace invisible.”
