Chapter 8 - The Clearing of the Hall
By nine-thirty, the grand ballroom of the Vance estate was nearly empty.
The two hundred guests had departed in a slow, quiet, almost funeral procession through the main gates. The Senator had left first, shaking Thomas Graham’s hand near the coat check without saying a word to Jaden; the Dean of Yale had stopped by the conservatory doors to touch Elena’s shoulder and whisper, “Your father would have been very proud of you tonight, my dear”; and the journalists from Town & Country had been escorted to their cars by Marcus Ward after their camera memory cards were purchased for twenty thousand dollars each by Vance legal counsel.
Vanessa Ritchie had vanished thirty minutes earlier.
She had been seen by the head steward running down the service stairs near the kitchen, her red silk dress ripped at the hem, holding her silver high heels in one hand while she tried to summon an Uber on her phone from the bottom of the long driveway. She had left her small white dog in the terrace pavilion; Marcus Ward had placed it in a blue basket near the front desk.
Jaden sat alone on a velvet bench near the dark fireplace.
His tuxedo jacket was off, thrown across the arm of the chair. He held a glass of ice water in his hands, staring at the cold black soot inside the hearth.
Thomas Graham walked across the empty floor, his black leather shoes clicking with that same dry, rhythmic sound. He carried a silver tray with a single sheet of typed paper and a black pen.
He stopped two feet from Jaden.
“What is that?” Jaden asked without looking up. His voice was raw, dry, and hollow.
“Your resignation from the executive board of Vance Development,” Graham said flatly. “And your authorization for the surrender of your corporate car, your office on Park Avenue, and your signing rights on the primary operational account.”
Jaden gave a short, bitter laugh that ended in a dry cough. “And if I don't sign it?”
Graham adjusted his spectacles. “If you do not sign it by ten o'clock, Mrs. Vance—the voting trustee—will convene an emergency board meeting in the morning and terminate your employment for cause, citing unauthorized access to the family vault and misappropriation of corporate assets.”
Jaden raised his head. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. “She wouldn't do that. She doesn't have the stomach for a public fight.”
“She doesn't need a stomach for it,” Graham said. “I have the stomach for it. And I have forty years of documentation regarding your expenses in Miami, Saint-Tropez, and Aspen.”
Jaden stared at the lawyer for ten seconds. He looked toward the grand horseshoe stairs, where two housekeepers were quietly collecting the crystal glasses left on the marble ledges.
“Where is she?” Jaden asked.
“She is upstairs,” Graham replied. “Helping your father take his medication.”
Jaden picked up the black pen from the tray. His hand shook so violently that his signature across the bottom of the white paper looked like the jagged line of an earthquake monitor.
He dropped the pen onto the silver tray.
“Tell her... tell her she can have the house,” Jaden whispered, resting his face in his hands. “I never liked the smell of the salt anyway.”
Graham picked up the signed paper, checked the date with a quick glance, and tucked it into his vest pocket.
May you like
“The gate security has been instructed to assist you with your personal luggage,” Graham said. “You have until eight o'clock tomorrow morning to clear your clothes from the guest wing. Good night, Jaden.”
Graham turned and walked away toward the library, leaving the younger man sitting alone in the vast, cold room under the painted ceiling of clouds and gold-leaf stars.
