Chapter 10 - THE SECRET CATHERINE NEVER TOLD HIM
Z
Nathan did not immediately ask what Catherine had done.
That frightened her more than anger would have.
He simply stood in the kitchen, holding her hand, waiting.
Emma sensed the change in the room.
“I'll go upstairs.”
Nathan looked at her.
“Take the croissants.”
“I already did.”
Of course she had.
When Emma disappeared, Catherine sat at the kitchen table.
For the first time since Nathan had known her, she looked smaller than the room around her.
“I was twenty-nine,” she began.
“My father was still CEO. I was running operations.”
Nathan sat across from her.
“One of our hotels in Indianapolis had a general manager named Michael Dorsey. He'd been with the company nineteen years.”
Nathan listened.
“We discovered missing money. Vendor invoices. Payroll irregularities. Almost four hundred thousand dollars.”
“And you thought he stole it.”
“I didn't think. I was certain.”
Her voice cracked slightly.
“I led the internal investigation.”
Nathan understood where this was going.
“You fired him.”
“I fired him publicly.”
Catherine looked at the table.
“My father wanted an example made. I agreed.”
“What happened?”
“Six months later, we discovered the fraud came from the regional finance office.”
Nathan said nothing.
“Michael had approved invoices because they came through authorized systems. He wasn't stealing. He was careless, maybe, but not criminal.”
“Did you fix it?”
“I offered him his job back.”
Catherine laughed without humor.
“He told me to go to hell.”
Nathan couldn't blame him.
“He had already lost his house. His wife had left. His professional reputation was destroyed.”
Catherine's eyes filled.
“I gave him a settlement.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“No amount was enough.”
“I know.”
The answer came immediately.
That mattered too.
Nathan leaned back.
“Why would your father bring that up now?”
“Because he always uses the worst thing you've done as proof you haven't changed.”
Nathan considered.
“Did Michael sue?”
“No.”
“Did the board know?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hide anything?”
“Not from the company.”
“From me.”
“Yes.”
There it was.
Catherine closed her eyes.
Nathan looked through the window at the workshop where his father had taught him to identify wood by smell.
He was angry.
Not because Catherine had made the mistake.
People made terrible decisions.
He had.
Laura had.
Every adult he respected had.
He was angry because Catherine had allowed him to believe the person at the wedding was the whole woman.
Maybe that had never been fair.
“You should've told me.”
“I know.”
“When?”
“Before I asked you to marry me?”
“You didn't ask me.”
Her mouth almost smiled.
“Before I said yes.”
Nathan rubbed his jaw.
“Why didn't you?”
“Because with you, I wasn't Catherine Bennett, CEO.”
“You were always Catherine Bennett.”
“You know what I mean.”
He did.
Around him, she had escaped herself.
The problem was that escape could become dishonesty when it lasted too long.
“Is there more?”
Catherine looked up.
“Yes.”
His stomach sank.
“Michael Dorsey died two years ago.”
Nathan swallowed.
“How?”
“Heart attack.”
“So your decision didn't—”
“I know. Rationally, I know.”
But guilt rarely obeyed rationality.
Nathan reached across the table.
Catherine stared at his hand.
“You did something wrong,” he said.
She blinked.
“I expected you to soften it.”
“I don't think you need that.”
“No.”
“You accused a man before you had enough evidence.”
“Yes.”
“You helped destroy his career.”
“Yes.”
“And then you tried to repair something that couldn't fully be repaired.”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Nathan's fingers closed around hers.
“That's not the same thing as pretending it never happened.”
Catherine cried then.
Silently.
Almost angrily.
“I don't deserve you making this easier.”
“I'm not.”
He leaned closer.
“I'm telling you I need the whole person.”
Catherine looked at him.
“The woman at the wedding. The CEO. The person who makes mistakes. The woman who bought my daughter an astronomy book. All of it.”
“What if there are things you hate?”
“Then we deal with those things.”
She wiped her face.
“That's very annoyingly reasonable.”
“I build stairs.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing. It sounded wise.”
She laughed despite herself.
At seven that evening, Nathan arrived at the Bennett Grand.
Catherine waited outside the elevator.
She wore black trousers and a white blouse.
No armor.
Just clothes.
“You could still leave,” she said.
“You've offered me escape before.”
“And yet you keep ignoring it.”
“Bad judgment.”
The elevator opened onto the presidential floor.
Henry Bennett's suite occupied almost the entire east side.
A staff member opened the door.
Henry stood near the windows.
At seventy-one, he was still an imposing man.
Tall.
Silver-haired.
Straight-backed.
Nathan immediately understood Richard better.
The older men in Catherine's family had perfected the art of making a room feel like borrowed property.
Henry looked Nathan up and down.
“So.”
Nathan waited.
“You're the carpenter.”
“You're the retired hotel guy.”
Catherine closed her eyes.
Henry's mouth twitched.
Not quite amusement.
“Sit.”
They sat.
Dinner was already arranged.
Henry did not touch it.
“Catherine tells me you're engaged.”
Nathan glanced at Catherine.
“I was there.”
Henry ignored that.
“Do you understand what marriage to my daughter means?”
“Hopefully joint dental insurance.”
Catherine kicked him under the table.
Henry's gaze remained cold.
“My daughter owns assets worth hundreds of millions of dollars.”
“Then she should probably have a good accountant.”
“She has several.”
“Great.”
“You think humor makes money irrelevant.”
“No. I think money doesn't answer the question you're pretending to ask.”
Henry leaned forward.
“And what question is that?”
“Whether I'm marrying Catherine or her balance sheet.”
Silence.
Catherine looked at Nathan.
Henry studied him carefully.
Then he produced a folder.
“I had attorneys prepare a prenuptial agreement.”
Catherine froze.
“Dad.”
Nathan opened it.
The document was thick.
He flipped several pages.
“What does it say?”
Henry answered.
“In the event of divorce, you leave with what you entered with. You waive claim to Bennett Hospitality shares, trusts, family property, and future appreciation.”
Catherine stood.
“You had no right.”
Nathan continued reading.
Henry watched him.
“Sign it and I will transfer one million dollars into an irrevocable trust for Emma.”
The room went completely still.
Nathan closed the folder.
Catherine's face went white with rage.
“You brought my daughter into this?”
Henry corrected her.
“His daughter.”
Nathan stood.
“Dinner's over.”
Henry remained seated.
“You're offended by security for your child?”
“I'm offended by people who think a price tag makes disrespect look generous.”
Nathan put the folder down.
“I don't want your million dollars.”
“Everyone says that before the check exists.”
Nathan smiled.
“You know what I made last year?”
Henry's eyes narrowed.
“No.”
“Enough.”
He turned toward Catherine.
“Ready?”
But Catherine was staring at her father.
Something in her had changed.
“Why now?”
Henry's expression tightened.
“Because Richard called me.”
There it was.
Catherine stepped closer.
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“What did he say?”
Henry hesitated.
Nathan noticed.
Catherine did too.
“Dad.”
Henry looked toward the window.
“He said you're losing control of the company.”
Catherine laughed once.
Coldly.
“And you believed him?”
“I believed enough to come home.”
Nathan picked up his coat.
But Henry's next words stopped everyone.
“Richard isn't finished, Catherine.”
She turned.
Henry finally looked afraid.
“He has enough Bennett family shares committed to force a special meeting.”
May you like
“For what?”
“To remove you as CEO.”
