Chapter 4 - THE CRACK IN THE STAIRCASE
Z
Nathan knew something was wrong with the staircase before he touched it.
The Bennett Grand had been built in 1911, when craftsmanship was expensive and patience was considered part of construction rather than a scheduling problem.
The east staircase curved upward beneath a stained-glass window, its railing carved from white oak darkened by a century of hands.
Nathan crouched beside the cracked decorative panel.
Catherine stood behind him with three executives, two maintenance supervisors, and Richard Vale.
“Well?” Richard asked.
Nathan ignored him.
He ran his thumb along the split.
Then he removed a flashlight.
“This isn’t age.”
Catherine leaned closer.
“What is it?”
“Pressure.”
“From what?”
“That’s the question.”
He removed two screws.
The panel loosened.
Behind it, Nathan found a metal support bracket.
New metal.
Far newer than the staircase.
He frowned.
“Who renovated this area?”
Richard answered immediately.
“Three years ago.”
“Contractor?”
“Vale Construction.”
Nathan looked at him.
Richard smiled without warmth.
“My son's company.”
Catherine's expression sharpened.
Nathan pointed toward the bracket.
“This was installed incorrectly.”
Richard's jaw tightened.
“That is a serious accusation.”
“It’s not an accusation. It’s a bracket.”
One of the maintenance supervisors coughed to disguise a laugh.
Nathan continued.
“The wood expands and contracts. Whoever installed this locked the panel too tightly against the frame. Pressure built until it split.”
“Can you repair it?” Catherine asked.
“Yes.”
“By Friday?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I’ll send an estimate.”
Richard stepped forward.
“We already have approved vendors.”
Catherine looked at him.
“And one of those vendors caused the damage.”
“There is no evidence—”
Nathan stood.
“There’s plenty.”
Richard's face reddened.
Nathan wiped sawdust from his hands.
“You can argue about responsibility later. Right now, the bigger issue is the surrounding rail.”
Catherine followed his gaze.
“What bigger issue?”
Nathan pressed one section.
Movement.
Small.
But unmistakable.
“Someone cut into the original support during renovation.”
The maintenance supervisor went pale.
“Is it safe?”
“For normal traffic? Probably.”
Catherine's voice hardened.
“Probably?”
“For two hundred people after cocktails?”
Nathan shook his head.
“No.”
Within ten minutes, Catherine ordered the entire staircase closed.
She canceled two scheduled events in adjacent spaces and relocated Friday’s gala.
Richard protested every decision.
Catherine ignored him.
Nathan watched the exchange with growing interest.
At the wedding, Catherine had seemed lonely.
Here, she was formidable.
Every employee moved the moment she spoke.
No shouting.
No theatrics.
Just authority.
Yet Nathan noticed something else.
Whenever Richard challenged her, Catherine's left hand closed into a fist.
Not anger.
Habit.
By noon, Nathan's crew arrived.
At twelve-thirty, Catherine returned carrying sandwiches.
Nathan stared.
“Did the CEO bring lunch?”
“I was told carpenters require food.”
“We generally photosynthesize.”
She handed him a bag.
Turkey.
No mustard.
Exactly what he had ordered at the café the day before.
“You remembered.”
Catherine pretended not to hear.
Nathan's phone buzzed.
Emma.
He answered on speaker while sanding a replacement piece.
“Hey, bug.”
“Did you meet the scary hotel woman?”
Catherine nearly dropped the sandwich bag.
Nathan closed his eyes.
“Emma.”
“What? You said she was intimidating.”
“I did not.”
“You said people acted weird around her.”
Catherine crossed her arms.
“I’m enjoying this.”
Emma's voice came through brightly.
“Is she there?”
Nathan sighed.
“Yes.”
“Can she hear me?”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then Emma said, “Thank you for the book, Ms. Bennett.”
Catherine softened immediately.
“You’re welcome, Emma.”
“I read seventy pages.”
“Already?”
“I read fast.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Show-off.”
Emma ignored him.
“There’s a physicist named Vera Rubin who proved galaxies rotate weirdly.”
Catherine smiled.
“Dark matter.”
Another pause.
“You know about her?”
“A little.”
Nathan watched Catherine.
Her whole face changed when speaking with his daughter.
“Dad,” Emma said.
“Yeah?”
“She can stay.”
Nathan almost swallowed a piece of sandwich whole.
Catherine turned away, laughing.
“Goodbye, Emma.”
“Bye, Dad.”
The call ended.
Nathan pointed accusingly at Catherine.
“You enjoyed that.”
“Enormously.”
“She has no authority.”
“Apparently she does.”
They worked until nearly six.
Catherine remained far longer than necessary.
At one point, she removed her heels and sat on the carpeted landing while answering emails.
Nathan pretended not to notice.
Finally his crew left.
Richard had disappeared hours earlier.
Only Catherine and Nathan remained.
He fitted the replacement oak section into place.
“Come here.”
Catherine walked closer.
Nathan handed her a piece of sandpaper.
“What am I doing?”
“Working.”
“I have employees.”
“Tonight you’re an apprentice.”
“I should warn you I’m expensive.”
“You already admitted to destroying a microwave.”
She glared.
Nathan demonstrated.
“With the grain.”
Catherine tried.
“Too hard.”
“I’m barely touching it.”
“You’re trying to intimidate the wood.”
“I do not intimidate wood.”
“You intimidated a room full of executives this morning.”
“They needed intimidating.”
“The oak doesn’t.”
She laughed.
For twenty minutes, Catherine Bennett sanded a century-old railing beside a carpenter while snow fell beyond the stained-glass window.
When they finished, Nathan ran his hand over the surface.
“Not bad.”
“Not bad?”
“For a CEO.”
She bumped his shoulder.
Nathan looked at her.
She looked back.
The space between them suddenly felt much smaller.
Catherine's smile faded.
Nathan could smell sawdust and her perfume.
He wanted to kiss her.
The realization arrived quietly.
And terrified him.
He stepped backward.
Catherine noticed.
Of course she did.
Nathan reached for his toolbox.
“It’s late.”
“Yes.”
“I should get home.”
“Of course.”
He hated the hurt hidden beneath her calmness.
But he had spent five years constructing a life where the possibility of loss was carefully limited.
His daughter.
His business.
His memories.
Catherine Bennett represented something he had stopped allowing himself.
A future he could lose.
Nathan left.
Catherine remained alone beside the repaired staircase.
Ten minutes later, Richard approached from the dark corridor.
“You’re making a mistake.”
She turned.
“What?”
“With him.”
Catherine’s face hardened.
“You don’t get a vote.”
“He wants something.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know men.”
“No. You know yourself.”
Richard's expression changed.
Catherine put on her shoes.
“If you ever interfere with Nathan Cole’s contract, employment, or business, I will consider it interference with my authority as CEO.”
“This is bigger than business.”
“No,” Catherine said quietly. “For you, everything is business.”
She walked away.
Richard watched her leave.
May you like
Then he pulled out his phone.
“Find out everything you can about Cole Woodworks.”
