“That is certainly a position you may take.”
He seemed unsettled by her calmness.
He was accustomed to arguments.
Arguments gave him material to attack.
Silence gave him nowhere to redirect his anger.
I reached into my bag and placed my phone face down on the table.
Ryan watched the movement.
“What now?”
“Nothing dramatic,” I said.
“I came here because I wanted one conversation where you could not later claim you misunderstood what was happening.”
He laughed again.
“You think because your father owns a hotel, you control me?”
“No.”
I looked directly at him.
“That is the difference between us, Ryan.
I’m not trying to control you.”
I touched the folder.
“I’m documenting you.”
Ashley sat back down, but now she had moved her chair several inches away from him.
“Were you using company money on me?” she asked.
Ryan turned on her.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“You paid for trips.
Gifts.
This suite.”
“I can afford a hotel room.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
His expression changed.
For the first time that evening, Ashley was not looking at him with admiration.
She was looking at him the way I had begun looking at him ten months earlier.
Carefully.
Ryan hated careful attention.
He preferred belief.
He stood.
“This conversation is over.”
The general manager stepped forward.
Ryan glared at him.
“Move.”
The manager remained composed.
“You’re free to leave the restaurant, Mr.
Bennett.”
Ryan pointed toward the ceiling.
“My belongings are upstairs.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then get out of my way.”
“I’m not blocking you.”
Ryan looked around and realized the man was right.
No one was restraining him.
That made his anger look even smaller.
He reached for Ashley.
“Come on.”
She did not move.
“Ashley.”
“I need to know whether my name is in those documents.”
Ryan stared at her.
She looked at Victoria instead.
