Chapter 2 - THE FATHER WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
Brooke had told Dylan her father died when she was sixteen.
Car accident.
Quick.
Tragic.
No details.
Her mother died six years later from cancer.
That part was true.
Brooke described herself as coming from “old Midwestern money that disappeared after bad investments.”
Also false.
Jacob Palmer had been alive the entire time.
Not wealthy.
Not respectable by Dylan’s standards.
Alive.
The restaurant manager gave them a private dining room only after Chloe refused to leave with Dylan.
Jacob sat near the door.
He would not take off his coat.
Dylan stood.
Brooke stayed beside him, but no longer touching him.
Chloe asked:
“Why are you here?”
Jacob looked at her.
“Because I saw your wedding picture yesterday.”
“What?”
“Someone left a business magazine at the shelter.”
Dylan was on the cover.
Mercer Hospitality Expansion.
Inside was a society page from a gala six months earlier.
Dylan and Chloe.
Husband and wife.
Brooke appeared in the background.
Jacob recognized his daughter.
Then recognized Dylan’s surname.
Mercer.
He took two buses downtown.
Spent the afternoon asking hotel employees whether Dylan Mercer would be at Bell & Vale that evening.
Why?
Jacob reached inside his coat and pulled out a folded plastic envelope.
Brooke’s voice sharpened.
“Don’t.”
He looked at her.
“You haven’t even seen it.”
“I don’t care.”
Chloe did.
“What is it?”
Jacob placed an old newspaper clipping on the table.
MERCER DEVELOPMENT ACQUIRES LAKESHORE INN PORTFOLIO.
Date:
twenty-one years earlier.
Dylan’s father, Charles Mercer, stood in the photograph.
Beside him:
Jacob Palmer.
Clean-shaven.
Suit.
Tie.
Not homeless.
Caption:
Lakeshore Inns chief accountant Jacob Palmer assists transition team.
Dylan stared.
“My father knew you?”
Jacob shook his head.
“Your father knew my reports.”
Then he looked at Chloe.
“And he knew what happened after I filed them.”
Dylan said:
“Filed what?”
Jacob reached back into the envelope.
Before he could answer, Brooke grabbed the clipping and tore it in half.
Jacob did not move.
Chloe did.
She caught Brooke’s wrist.
“Enough.”
Brooke stared at her.
May you like
For the first time that night, Chloe was not the humiliated wife.
She was simply the person in the room who wanted the truth most.
