Chapter 6 - The Unraveling
By Wednesday afternoon, news of Whitmore Development’s financial distress had leaked to the Wall Street Journal.
Stock prices for Grant’s publicly traded subsidiary plunged thirty percent in four hours. Contractors on the Riverfront project halted work, parking their bulldozers at the entrance of the construction site.
Grant sat in his dark, sprawling penthouse apartment on Park Avenue, surrounded by half-empty glasses of scotch.
Madison walked into the living room, wearing a silk robe and her medical boot. She looked around at the clutter and the drawn blinds, her expression mixture of annoyance and anxiety.
“Grant, my manager called,” Madison said, standing near the leather couch. “The lease on the Aston Martin you got me… the dealership called saying the payment bounced.”
Grant didn't look up from his glass. “Tell them to wait.”
“Tell them to wait?” Madison echoed, her voice rising in pitch. “Grant, this is embarrassing! And what about our trip to St. Barts next week? The private jet company said the reservation hasn't been confirmed!”
Grant turned his bloodshot eyes toward her. For the first time in six months, he really looked at Madison Blake. He saw her beautiful face, her flawless skin, and her pristine clothes—and realized there was nothing behind it. No shared history. No depth. No strength when the storm hit.
When Grant had almost lost his first commercial deal twenty years ago, Claire had stayed up with him for three straight nights, making coffee, organizing files, and holding his hand when he thought he was going to break.
Madison was complaining about an Aston Martin lease.
“Get out,” Grant said softly.
Madison blinked, stunned. “What?”
“I said get out,” Grant repeated, his voice firming up. “Pack your things and leave.”
“Grant! You can’t talk to me like that! I’m your girlfriend!”
May you like
“You were a trophy I bought to convince myself I wasn't getting old,” Grant said coldly, taking a drink of scotch. “And right now, I can’t afford the maintenance. Leave the keys on the counter.”
Madison gasped, her face flushing red with humiliation. She turned around and stomped down the hallway toward the master bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
