Chapter 2
Claire’s office was barely large enough for the three of us. A folding table held a printer, a stack of banquet schedules, and a vase of roses that had started to droop at the edges. Through the wall, I could still hear the reception: music, conversation, the occasional burst of laughter.
It seemed strange that the party could keep going while the three of us stood over a piece of paper that might change everything.
Claire set the printed form beside a folder of invoices.
“I’ve matched the authorization number to the earlier invoice,” she said. “But that only tells me the number was used on both records. I’m still checking what each entry refers to.”
“Then let’s check what you have,” I said.
Daniel stood across the table from me. He’d taken off his tie and loosened his collar, but he still looked as if he were waiting for someone to tell him where to stand.
Tiffany had stayed in the ballroom with her parents. She had demanded a copy of the form, and Claire had explained that the original would remain with the venue’s records. I didn’t know whether Tiffany would come back. For the moment, I was grateful for the quiet.
Claire opened the folder.
“These are the service invoices and change requests currently connected to the event. Some items were part of the original package. Others were added later.”
She slid the first page toward me. I scanned the headings, trying to focus through the sting in my cheek and the tiredness pressing behind my eyes. There were references to floral additions, transportation, and food service. The paperwork was not a neat list of what I had agreed to pay. It was a trail of entries and numbers, some familiar, some not.
“I remember discussing the flowers,” I said. “I don’t remember approving these additions.”
“Do you have a signed approval from Mrs. Bennett?” Daniel asked.
Claire checked the papers. “Not in the packet I have here.”
“Then they weren’t approved,” he said.
“Not necessarily,” I replied. “It means we haven’t found the approval. That’s why we’re looking.”
He lowered his eyes. I could tell he wanted to make the matter simple—to sort the papers into good and bad, approved and stolen, then apologize for whatever fell on the wrong side. But we didn’t know enough yet. I wasn’t going to replace one assumption with another just because I was hurt.
Claire tapped a line on the invoice.
“This item references the same authorization number we saw on the form. The form appears to cover more than one service, but I haven’t confirmed which entries belong to it.”
“What’s the amount?” I asked.
“I don’t want to give you a number until I’ve finished matching the records. Some entries may be estimates or duplicate references.”
“Fine,” I said. “I’d rather wait than be told the wrong thing.”
That had been my mistake for months: letting a request become urgent before I understood its cost. I’d heard that one more upgrade would make the evening special, that the new guest count couldn’t be helped, that a deposit had to be paid right away. Each time, I’d told myself it was easier to say yes than to disappoint Daniel.
Now I wished I had asked for every invoice in writing.
Daniel leaned over the folder, but he didn’t touch it.
“I remember one of these kinds of changes,” he said.
I looked at him. “Which one?”
“A few months ago, Tiffany mentioned a charge on your card. She said a vendor had corrected an invoice.”
My fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
“What charge?”
“I don’t remember the amount.”
“Do you remember who the vendor was?”
“No. I didn’t see the paperwork.”
“You didn’t ask me?”
His face reddened. “No.”
“You didn’t ask the vendor?”
“No.”
“Did you see any correction?”
He shook his head.
“Then what made you believe it was a correction?”
“She told me that was what it was.”
He spoke quietly, without looking toward the door. I heard no excuse in his answer, but that didn’t make it easier to accept. He had known there was a charge on my card. He had heard an explanation and decided that was enough.
“You should have told me,” I said.
“I know.”
“And you should have asked me whether I knew about it.”
“I know.”
His apology from earlier came back to me, but I didn’t reach for it. I didn’t want to turn that moment into comfort for him before I had allowed myself to feel the hurt.
Claire continued sorting the pages.
“I can contact the vendors and ask them to preserve their original requests, timestamps, and any supporting records. I won’t ask them to cancel completed services or make any assumptions about the staff. We’ll just request the documentation.”
“Please do,” I said. “I don’t want anyone accused because an invoice is confusing.”
Daniel nodded. “Neither do I.”
I glanced at him. “Good. Then don’t decide what happened before we see the records.”
“I won’t.”
The answer came quickly. I hoped he meant it.
Claire picked up another sheet. “This entry appears to be connected to the champagne upgrade.”
My stomach tightened.
“Laurent Reserve?” I asked.
“I’m checking the description now.” She studied the page, then looked at the screen on her tablet. “Yes. It references an additional champagne request.”
“I refused that.”
“I know,” she said. “You told me to make sure no further charges were placed on your card without your direct approval. I’ve passed that instruction to billing, but I’m still waiting for written confirmation that the restriction is in place.”
“Please follow up with them before you do anything else.”
“I will.”
Daniel stared at the paper. “This request was made today?”
“I’m checking the time.” Claire scrolled through the record. Her expression changed—not dramatically, but enough to make me watch her more carefully.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The vendor’s timestamp is here. The request was entered after Mrs. Bennett declined the upgrade.”
The room seemed to grow smaller.
I thought of the moment at the table: Richard’s dismissive smile, Elaine’s folded arms, Tiffany accusing me of ruining her wedding. I had refused to spend nearly two thousand dollars on one more bottle, and then the champagne request had apparently appeared in the records anyway.
“Does that mean somebody submitted it after I said no?” Daniel asked.
“It means the request was entered after that point,” Claire said. “It doesn’t establish who submitted it, or what they believed they were doing. I’m not going to claim more than the record shows.”
I appreciated her restraint. The facts were already painful. They didn’t need embellishment.
“Can you print the timestamp?” I asked.
“Yes. I can include it with the preserved records.”
“Do that. And keep a copy of anything showing when the request was received.”
Claire made a note. Her calm manner steadied me more than reassurance would have. She was not telling me what to think. She was helping me see what had been recorded.
Daniel pulled out a chair but didn’t sit.
“I should’ve noticed,” he said.
“You should’ve asked.”
“I thought I was staying out of the way.”
“That isn’t the same as staying out of it.”
He looked at me then. For a moment, I saw the boy who used to bring me broken toys and trust that I could fix them. The memory hurt, because the man standing across from me had let a problem involving my money pass without a question.
“I know,” he said.
Claire collected the pages and placed them in a fresh folder.
“I’ll keep the original form secured here. I can provide copies of the invoices and the records we’ve matched so far. For the rest, I’ll need to contact the vendors.”
“Please do,” I said. “And tell them not to process anything else against my card unless I approve it myself.”
“I’ll make sure billing receives that instruction again.”
Daniel reached for the folder, then stopped.
“Can I see the copy?”
“Of the form?” Claire asked.
“Yes.”
“I can show you the copy I’m authorized to provide. The original stays in the file.”
Claire handed him a page. He read it without speaking. Then he looked at the printed details near the bottom.
“What does this field mean?” he asked. “The submission source?”
Claire leaned toward him. “That’s what I’m trying to verify. The initial record shows a source account, but I need to confirm it against the system log before I say more.”
“Is it a person’s account?”
“I can’t tell from this page.”
I watched Daniel’s face as he read the line again. He didn’t look at Tiffany. He didn’t look at me. He looked at the form, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something harmless.
Claire returned to her tablet.
“I have the event’s record open now,” she said. “Give me a moment.”
The music on the other side of the wall changed. Someone cheered, followed by a ripple of applause. I remembered the room full of guests, the candles, the speeches, the wedding I had helped pay for because I wanted my son to have a beautiful beginning.
I had wanted to be generous. I had not agreed to become invisible.
Claire stopped scrolling.
“I found the submission detail.”
Daniel raised his head.
“What does it say?” I asked.
May you like
Claire turned the tablet so we could both see the entry.
“The disputed form came from a family email account.”
