“She left.”
“Did she find out?”
“Tessa.”
“What?”
“Did she contact you?”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
“No. Grant, you’re scaring me.”
I picked up a statements.
“She found the apartment.”
Another silence.
“How?”
“She found everything.”
“What does everything mean?”
“The trips.
Jewelry.
Transfers.”
Tessa’s breathing changed.
“Wait. Transfers from where?”
“You knew how I paid.”
“I knew you paid.”
“You never asked.”
“Because you told me you had discretionary accounts.”
“I do.”
“Then what is the problem?”
It seemed ugly.
“The problem is my company’s accounts are restricted and there is a board meeting tomorrow.”
“Because of Corinne?”
“Yes.”
“Can she do that?”
Apparently everyone in my life had the same first reaction.
“I need to think.”
“What does this mean for the apartment?”
“What?”
“The apartment.
If the account is frozen, is rent still being paid?”
For seconds I couldn’t speak.
Tessa continued quickly.
“I’m not being selfish.
