Chapter 5 - Celeste’s Version of MeCeleste found me near the terrace after Marcus’s interview.
I had returned downstairs because Harrison still needed to make the succession announcement formally.
Most guests were pretending the earlier scene had never happened.
Corporate gatherings are excellent laboratories for selective memory.
Celeste approached without champagne this time.
“Can we talk?”
“If it’s about the review, no.”
“It’s about Marcus.”
“That’s worse.”
She flinched.
Fair.
I wasn’t interested in being unnecessarily cruel.
“What?”
Celeste glanced around.
“He told me you had no career.”
There it was.
“I do.”
“Clearly.”
“He said you hadn’t worked seriously in years.”
“I reduced my consulting during our marriage.”
“He said because you hated working.”
I laughed.
That one was almost impressive.
“What else?”
Celeste looked embarrassed.
“That you depended on him.”
“No.”
“He paid for everything.”
“No.”
“He said you barely contributed.”
“No.”
Her face changed with every answer.
I could have enjoyed it.
I didn’t.
Celeste had made choices too.
She had dated a married man before his divorce was final.
Maybe earlier.
I still didn’t know.
But Marcus had apparently built her confidence by diminishing me.
That sounded familiar.
She lowered her voice.
“When did Harrison choose you?”
“Four weeks ago.”
“Marcus really didn’t know?”
“No.”
“I thought tonight was some setup.”
“What setup?”
“That you deliberately became Harrison’s successor to control Marcus.”
I stared at her.
“Do you understand how enormous that would make Marcus in my life?”
Celeste looked away.
She did.
Then I asked:
“When did you and Marcus become involved?”
Her eyes snapped back.
“I don’t owe you—”
“You’re right.”
I stopped her.
“You don’t.”
She seemed surprised.
I no longer needed an answer for myself.
If the relationship began before the divorce, that fact would belong to the past.
But the vendor investigation made timing relevant professionally.
“General counsel may ask you formally because of your company’s contracts.”
Her face paled.
“That has nothing to do with us.”
“It may.”
“My agency worked for Vantage before Marcus and I dated.”
“I know.”
“Then why does everyone make it sound like corruption?”
“I didn’t.”
She stopped.
“You didn’t?”
“No. There are legitimate invoices in the file.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
“There are also duplicate and overlapping invoices that need explanation.”
The relief disappeared.
“I didn’t submit anything false.”
“Then documentation will establish that.”
She studied me.
“You really aren’t trying to destroy us.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Because six months earlier, maybe I would have wanted to.
Because when Marcus emailed me the end of our marriage while I was changing hospice sheets in Seattle, I had imagined every possible version of justice.
Then Aunt Margaret died.
And revenge started looking like another way of giving Marcus my time.
“I came here to do a job,” I said.
Celeste looked toward him across the ballroom.
“He said you were bitter.”
“I was.”
That answer surprised her.
“I’m just no longer willing to organize my life around it.”
Harrison stepped onto the stage.
The room quieted.
He began the formal succession announcement.
Marcus stood twenty feet away.
For once, he wasn’t looking at Harrison.
He was looking at me.
And there was something new in his expression.
Not contempt.
Recognition.
Too late, perhaps.
May you like
But recognition.
Keep reading—because Marcus’s next problem came from an employee who had spent months being told to stop asking questions.
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