Chapter 11: Black Dress

By Friday, Delaney had a new video.

She sat on a sofa in a pale blue sweater with a mug of tea and a small, brave smile.

"I'm not bitter," she told the camera. "I only want to know why a CEO would fire a pregnant woman and then protect the woman who hurt her."

The video had two million views by lunch.

Kenneth watched it on his office wall with his arms crossed, and I watched him from the couch.

"Carson posted the clip on the board's private channel," he said. "Six of the eleven members are asking for an emergency vote on Monday."

"On what?"

"On whether I'm fit to run the company."

I stood up.

"Because of her?"

"Because of a story that fits what they were already afraid of," he said. "I'm young and I've never had a scandal. I do now."

"Kenneth, I'll make a statement."

"You'll do nothing of the kind."

"Then what do we do?"

He turned from the screen.

For the first time that week, he smiled, small and a little dangerous.

"The anniversary gala is Saturday night," he said. "Every board member will be on my roof. So will Carson. So will Delaney, I'd bet, on his arm."

"And?"

"And the silver-haired man has been busy."

My phone buzzed.

It was a message from a number I had saved as Number Four.

"The lawyer is in. The hotelier is in. I'm working on the others. She has no idea."

I read it twice.

"It's working," I said.

"Not yet," said Kenneth. "But it will be."

On Saturday afternoon my mother stood in my bedroom with a dress over her arm and a mouthful of pins.

"It's from my twenty-fifth anniversary," she said. "I never wore it again. I thought, when would I?"

"Mom, it's too much."

"It's black, it's long, and it has a slit. Try it."

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