Chapter 2 - One Hundred Twenty Million Reasons
Judith arrived wearing sunglasses, an ivory pantsuit and the expression of a woman prepared to commit a felony for her sister.
She entered the bedroom carrying three garment bags and a large hatbox.
When Eleanor removed the towel, Judith stopped.
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Then she placed the hatbox on the bed and wrapped both arms around Eleanor.
“I’m going to kill her.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m seventy-one. A jury will sympathize.”
Despite herself, Eleanor almost smiled.
Judith stepped back and studied her face.
“Did Jackson see the pictures?”
“He has not answered.”
“He’s marrying a criminal.”
“He’s marrying a woman he believes loves him.”
“Those are not mutually exclusive.”
Clara brought in coffee while Judith opened the garment bags. Inside hung three evening gowns.
“Try the navy one,” Judith said. “It makes you look like you own the hotel.”
“I helped finance the hotel.”
“Then dress accordingly.”
From the hatbox, Judith lifted a short silver wig cut into an elegant, modern style.
Eleanor touched it cautiously.
“I haven’t worn a wig since that charity production of Mamma Mia.”
“You looked magnificent.”
“I looked like a glamorous mushroom.”
Judith positioned the wig on Eleanor’s head and adjusted it near the temples.
When Eleanor faced the mirror again, the reflection was still unfamiliar—but no longer broken.
The silver style framed her cheekbones and made her blue eyes appear sharper.
Judith zipped the navy beaded gown.
“There,” she said. “You look like the woman who turned Frank’s failing construction company into an empire.”
“It was never failing.”
“He had eleven dollars in the bank.”
“He had vision.”
“He had you.”
That silenced them both.
Frank had been gone for three years, but grief still entered without knocking.
Eleanor touched the wedding ring she continued to wear.
“He would have seen through Natalie,” she said.
“Probably.”
“I wanted Jackson to be happy.”
“That is not the same as being blind.”
Eleanor’s phone rang.
Her attorney, Samuel Hale, was downstairs.
He entered carrying a leather folder and followed Eleanor into the study.
Samuel had represented the Whitmore family for thirty years. He rarely displayed emotion, but after reading Natalie’s note, his jaw tightened.
“The transfer can be stopped,” he said.
“Not yet.”
Judith turned sharply. “Why not?”
Eleanor looked toward the window.
“Because Jackson needs to hear the truth before I make a decision that changes his entire future.”
“He has already ignored you,” Judith said.
“He may not have seen the messages.”
Samuel removed his glasses. “Eleanor, I have to ask directly. Do you still intend to transfer the money if Jackson supports Natalie after learning what happened?”
Eleanor did not answer immediately.
“I don’t know.”
“That is not a legal answer.”
“It is the only honest one I have.”
Samuel placed several documents on the desk.
“The transfer authorization can be revoked at any time before nine tomorrow morning. I have also prepared an emergency amendment removing Natalie as a beneficiary from your estate.”
Judith nodded with satisfaction.
“Good.”
Eleanor studied the papers.
“I will speak to Jackson first.”
Samuel leaned forward.
“You need to understand something. If Natalie entered your residence, drugged you or took advantage of medication, shaved your head, stole jewelry and destroyed property, this is not merely family drama. These are potential crimes.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
His tone was gentle but firm.
“Because wealthy families often hide dangerous behavior to avoid embarrassment. That usually protects the wrong person.”
Eleanor closed the folder.
“Meet me at the hotel before the speeches.”
Samuel frowned. “Why before the speeches?”
“Because by then, I will know what kind of man my son has chosen to be.”
The Westbrook Hotel ballroom occupied the top floor of a restored nineteenth-century building overlooking the river. White flowers filled the lobby, and a string quartet played near the staircase.
Guests turned when Eleanor entered.
Some stared at the unfamiliar hairstyle. Others whispered.
Judith leaned closer.
“Let them look.”
Eleanor spotted Jackson near the private groom’s suite.
For one painful second, he looked exactly like Frank had on their own wedding day—dark hair combed back, shoulders rigid beneath a formal tuxedo, nerves hidden behind a practiced smile.
“Jackson.”
He turned.
His expression changed when he saw her.
“Mom? What happened to your hair?”
“I need to speak with you privately.”
He glanced at Judith. “Is this about the messages?”
“You saw them?”
“Yes.” He lowered his voice. “Natalie said you had some kind of episode.”
Eleanor felt the first crack open in her chest.
“She shaved my head.”
Jackson’s eyebrows drew together.
“What?”
“She entered my house while I slept, destroyed my dress and took my jewelry.”
“Mom, stop.”
“I have her note.”
“Not here.”
“Your code was used to disable the alarm.”
Jackson looked toward the hallway, clearly worried someone might overhear.
“Why would Natalie shave your head?”
“Because she wants to humiliate me.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense if she believes I’m the only obstacle between her and our money.”
Jackson stepped back.
“There it is.”
“What does that mean?”
“Every problem always becomes about money with you.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“I have spent my entire life making sure money would never become your problem.”
“And reminding me of it.”
His words struck harder than she expected.
Natalie appeared at the end of the corridor wearing a white satin robe. Her makeup was flawless. Her blonde hair fell in polished waves over one shoulder.
She widened her eyes when she saw Eleanor.
“Oh, Eleanor. What did you do to your hair?”
Judith muttered, “That little snake.”
Eleanor held up the note.
“You wrote this.”
Natalie glanced at it.
“I have never seen that before.”
“It is your handwriting.”
“Anyone could copy my handwriting.”
“Clara saw you leaving my room.”
Natalie’s eyes filled with tears so quickly it was almost impressive.
“Jackson, this is exactly what I was afraid of.”
He moved toward her. “What were you afraid of?”
“That she would create a scene because she can’t stand not being the most important woman in your life.”
Eleanor looked at her son.
“Ask her where she was at one o’clock this morning.”
Jackson exhaled sharply.
“I am not interrogating my fiancée an hour before our wedding.”
“Then ask why your alarm code was used.”
“I gave Natalie the code months ago.”
Natalie touched his sleeve.
“She’s trying to destroy this day.”
Eleanor’s voice dropped.
“I am trying to protect you.”
“From what?” Jackson snapped. “A woman who loves me?”
“From a woman who said there were one hundred twenty million reasons to tolerate me.”
His face changed.
Natalie recovered first.
“That’s absurd.”
“I heard you in the restroom last night.”
“You were listening to private conversations?”
“I was using the restroom.”
Jackson rubbed both hands over his face.
“Enough. Please. Just one day without accusations.”
“Look at my head.”
“I am looking!”
His voice echoed down the hallway.
Several members of the wedding party turned.
Jackson lowered his voice again.
“I don’t know what happened, but I know Natalie wouldn’t do this.”
“You know what you want to believe.”
“And you believe everyone is trying to take something from you.”
Eleanor’s hand tightened around the note.
Natalie stepped closer, speaking softly enough for only Eleanor to hear.
“You should have stayed home.”
Then she turned toward Jackson and rested her head against his chest.
“Please,” she whispered. “We’re supposed to be happy today.”
Jackson placed an arm around her.
He looked at his mother.
“Don’t ruin my wedding.”
Eleanor felt Judith take her elbow.
For a moment, she could not move.
Then the ceremony coordinator opened the doors.
“Five minutes,” she announced brightly.
Eleanor looked at her son one last time.
“I hope that when you finally understand what is happening, you remember that I gave you the chance to ask the truth.”
She walked away before he could answer.
Judith followed her toward the ballroom.
“What now?” Judith asked.
May you like
Eleanor glanced at the folded note in her hand.
“Now I watch.”
