“I’m Adrian Cole’s wife.”
That changed things.
She disappeared into an office.
Three minutes later, a manager came out.
“Mrs. Bennett, perhaps we should speak privately.”
“Absolutely.”
He had already received the lender’s fraud notice.
Wonderful.
I explained nothing beyond what Monica instructed.
I simply said my authorization was forged and legal counsel had contacted the bank.
The manager looked alarmed.
Then the front doors opened.
Adrian walked in.
Vanessa beside him.
He saw me.
Stopped.
Vanessa nearly walked into his back.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Adrian whispered:
“Claire?”
I smiled.
“Westhaven looks different than I remember.”
VANESSA TURNED TOWARD HIM
“What is she doing here?”
Interesting.
Not:
Who is she?
She knew exactly who I was.
That hurt differently from the source story I had originally imagined in my head where maybe the other woman had been lied to completely.
Vanessa knew he was married.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
Adrian recovered quickly.
“Claire, this is not what you think.”
I laughed.
“Please don’t insult both of us.”
The property manager stepped back.
Probably wishing he were anywhere else.
I looked at Vanessa.
“How long?”
She crossed her arms.
“I’m not discussing private matters with you.”
“Private?”
I nodded toward the office.
“My home is listed as collateral support for your private property purchase.”
Her expression changed.
“What?”
Adrian said:
“Claire.”
I ignored him.
I handed Vanessa a copy of the financial statement.
She read.
Her eyes narrowed.
“This isn’t what you showed me.”
Adrian stiffened.
Good.
There were lies inside lies.
I asked Vanessa:
“What did he show you?”
She looked at him.
He said sharply:
“Vanessa, don’t.”
She turned.
“Don’t what?”
“Make this worse.”
Her face changed.
“I thought the house loan was from your separate property.”
I stared at Adrian.
“What separate property?”
Vanessa answered before him.
“The Bellmere townhouse he said he owned before marriage.”
I almost smiled.
Adrian had never owned a townhouse.
Before we married, he rented a one-bedroom apartment over a pharmacy.
Vanessa went pale.
“You don’t own one?”
“No.”
She looked at Adrian.
“You told me—”
“I can explain.”
Vanessa laughed.
A sharp, ugly sound.
“Apparently that’s a popular phrase today.”
THEN THE PROPERTY MANAGER RECEIVED A CALL
He excused himself.
Returned two minutes later.
“We cannot proceed with closing.”
Adrian’s face went white.
