“Answer.”
Richard swallowed.
“Maybe one-fifty liquid.”
Andrew stared.
“One hundred fifty thousand?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you need Marcus?”
“Because much of that covers payroll guarantees and personal obligations.”
“Personal obligations like my wedding?”
Richard's face broke slightly.
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“The wedding invoices hit during a lender draw delay.”
“I thought it would clear.”
“It didn't.”
Andrew’s voice sharpened.
“So you called Marcus.”
“No.”
“He called me.”
“That is worse.”
Richard said nothing.
Andrew looked toward Eleanor.
“How did you find out?”
“Today.”
“From Dad?”
“No.”
“From whom?”
“The hotel general manager.”
Richard swore under his breath.
The Briarwood Hotel had once belonged to Eleanor’s brother.
She still knew half the senior staff.
Earlier that afternoon, the general manager approached her near the lobby.
“Mrs. Whitmore, please thank Mr. Brooks again for resolving the balance.”
Eleanor thought he meant something small.
A wine upgrade.
A room block.
Then he showed her the account.
Marcus Brooks.
Wire payment.
$38,200.
Eleanor called Lydia.
One question became five.
Five became enough.
She confronted Richard forty minutes before the rehearsal.
He begged her not to say anything until after the wedding.
Eleanor agreed to think.
Then listened to him publicly thank himself.
Her promise lasted twenty-seven minutes.
Andrew stared at his father.
“You were never going to tell me.”
“Yes, I was.”
“When?”
“After tomorrow.”
Andrew laughed.
“Everybody loves after.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“What would you have done if I told you two weeks ago?”
“I don't know.”
“Exactly.”
“No.”
Andrew leaned forward.
“Not knowing what I would do does not mean you get to choose for me.”
Richard said nothing.
Eleanor looked away.
Same lesson everywhere.
Andrew continued.
“Would the wedding have been canceled?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Marcus paid.”
“Before that.”
Richard hesitated.
“Yes.”
The word landed.
Not permanently canceled.
But contracts would have been suspended.
Hotel rooms released.
Catering canceled unless payment arrived.
The couple would have known.
They might have scaled down.
Moved venues.
Postponed.
Chosen.
Instead, the fathers decided a wedding should remain unchanged because change might upset the children.
Andrew looked toward the terrace.
“I need to talk to Camille.”
He stood.
Richard grabbed his wrist lightly.
“Andrew.”
He looked down.
Richard released him.
“I am sorry.”
Andrew’s expression stayed flat.
“For what?”
Richard opened his mouth.
Could not choose.
That was the problem.
“For putting you in this position.”
Andrew nodded.