Chapter 2
Nobody moved.
The waiter stood near the doorway holding the champagne Vanessa had ordered.
The bottle was covered in condensation.
Nobody wanted it anymore.
Marcus stared at his sister.
"What did you just say?"
Vanessa looked down at her plate.
"Nothing."
"You said there are things about this family I wasn't supposed to know."
She shook her head.
"I was angry."
Walter cleared his throat.
"Marcus, this isn't the place."
I looked toward my father-in-law.
He was sixty-four, a respected retired banker who had spent his entire life lecturing everyone about financial responsibility.
He wore an expensive gray suit.
His silver watch probably cost more than Vanessa's dinner.
And he suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable.
Marcus turned toward him.
"Dad, do you know something?"
Walter reached for his water.
"Your sister has always been careless with money. You know that."
"That's not what I asked."
Celeste placed her hand on Walter's arm.
"Maybe we should discuss this at home."
I felt anger rising.
That was exactly how this family handled every problem.
Not here.
Not now.
Let's keep this private.
And eventually, everyone pretended nothing happened.
I looked at Marcus.
"We can leave, but the questions aren't disappearing."
Vanessa glared at me.
"You've been waiting for a chance to turn him against me."
I shook my head.
"I've been waiting for you to stop using him."
She stood abruptly.
"You're jealous!"
I almost laughed.
"Of what?"
"Marcus loves me. He takes care of me. You can't stand that."
I stared at her.
I wasn't jealous of their relationship.
I was frightened by how easily she turned love into an obligation.
Marcus stood.
"Enough."
His voice was quiet.
But something about it made Vanessa stop.
"You can pay for your dinner, or you can speak to the restaurant manager about arranging payment."
Her eyes widened.
"You'd humiliate me like that?"
"You ordered the food."
I watched her lips tremble.
For years, Marcus had rescued her before she even asked.
Tonight, he was allowing her to face one small consequence.
And she acted as though he had betrayed her.
Celeste reached for her handbag.
"I'll cover it."
Marcus looked at his mother.
"Mom, please don't."
"She's my daughter."
"She's also twenty-nine years old."
Celeste stopped.
Marcus continued.
"You can make your own decision, but I'm not paying."
Vanessa began crying.
Loudly.
Dramatically.
She looked around the room, searching for sympathy.
Then she grabbed her handbag and stormed toward the exit.
Celeste followed.
Walter stayed behind.
He watched them leave.
Then he turned toward Marcus.
"Son, we need to talk."
My husband sat slowly.
"About what?"
Walter looked at me.
"Alone."
I felt the familiar sting.
For six years, I had been married into this family.
Yet whenever money or serious decisions came up, someone inevitably decided I didn't belong in the conversation.
Marcus noticed my expression.
"Whatever you have to say, Dad, you can say in front of Nia."
Walter frowned.
"Some things are private."
"My marriage isn't separate from my financial life."
I looked at Marcus.
He was finally saying something I'd been trying to explain for years.
Walter leaned back.
"Fine."
He lowered his voice.
"Your sister has been under financial pressure."
Marcus stared at him.
"What kind of pressure?"
"Debts."
"What debts?"
Walter hesitated.
"Personal loans. Credit cards. Some business expenses."
I leaned forward.
"What business?"
He looked at me.
"Vanessa's consulting company."
I frowned.
Vanessa had opened a lifestyle consulting business two years earlier.
She posted photographs of luxury hotels, designer clothes, and expensive dinners.
She called herself an entrepreneur.
But whenever I asked what services her company provided, she gave vague answers.
"How much does she owe?" Marcus asked.
Walter rubbed his forehead.
"I'm not sure."
I didn't believe him.
"Mr. Bennett, did you know Vanessa was using Marcus's card?"
He looked away.
"I knew she sometimes borrowed money."
"Without asking?"
He didn't answer.
Marcus pushed back his chair.
"Dad."
Walter sighed.
"I told her to stop depending on you."
"Did you know she claimed my card was stolen?"
Silence.
Then Walter whispered, "I knew there was an issue."
I stared at him.
"You knew?"
He looked miserable.
"Vanessa said she was going to correct it."
Marcus stood.
His face was pale.
"You let me report my card stolen while you knew she might have used it?"
Walter looked down.
"I didn't know the full details."
"Then why didn't you tell me what you knew?"
No answer.
My husband reached for my hand.
"Nia, we're leaving."
I stood.
As we approached the door, Walter called his name.
"Marcus."
My husband stopped.
"Your sister made mistakes. But don't destroy this family over money."
I felt Marcus's hand tighten around mine.
He turned around.
"Dad, nobody destroyed this family by asking where the money went."
Walter didn't answer.
We walked out together.
Outside, the Atlanta evening was warm.
The restaurant's valet brought our car around.
Marcus drove without speaking.
I watched him grip the steering wheel.
After several minutes, he whispered, "How long have you known?"
I looked at him.
"About the charges?"
He nodded.
"Three days."
"Why didn't you tell me immediately?"
I swallowed.
"Because I wanted to make sure I wasn't accusing your sister without evidence."
He exhaled slowly.
"Did you think I wouldn't believe you?"
I looked out the window.
"Would you have?"
He didn't answer.
That hurt more than I expected.
At home, Marcus opened his laptop.
We sat at the dining table and reviewed his credit card records.
There were charges we'd never discussed.
Hotel reservations.
Luxury clothing.
Airline tickets.
Payments to a company called VLM Consulting.
Vanessa's initials.
Then I noticed something strange.
Several payments came from an account associated with Bennett Property Holdings.
Marcus's company.
I leaned closer.
"Why is the business paying Vanessa?"
He frowned.
"She did some marketing work for us last year."
"How much work?"
"A few social media campaigns."
I pointed toward the screen.
"Then why did your company pay her almost thirty thousand dollars?"
His face changed.
He opened another statement.
Then another.
The payments continued for months.
Marcus stared at the screen.
"I didn't approve these."
My heart started pounding.
"Who handles vendor payments?"
He swallowed.
"Our accounting team."
"Who authorizes new vendors?"
His eyes moved toward me.
Then he whispered, "Dad helped oversee those accounts when we expanded."
I felt cold.
Walter had retired from banking, but he occasionally advised Marcus's company.
He had access to financial reports.
And he had personally recommended Vanessa for marketing work.
Marcus opened one final payment record.
It showed an authorization from an account with administrator privileges.
The authorized user's name appeared beneath the transaction.
Walter Bennett.
May you like
My husband stopped breathing.
And I knew we were no longer dealing with an entitled sister who wanted free dinners.
