Chapter 3 - The Summit of Power
Monday morning arrived with a crisp,
unrelenting clarity.
I stood in my office on the top floor of the Northstar Center,
overlooking the city skyline.
This was the headquarters of Summit Development Alliance,
a place Gavin had never visited,
a place he didn't even know existed.
My assistant,
Marcus,
walked in with a stack of files and a fresh cup of black coffee.
"The promissory note has been officially filed,
Stella,"
he said,
his voice professional and sharp.
"Mr. Harrell’s bank accounts have been frozen pending the hearing."
"Good,"
I said,
turning away from the window.
"What about the catering contract and the lease?"
"The catering firm is suing for the full balance plus liquidated damages,"
Marcus reported.
"And the estate leasing company has initiated eviction proceedings for the property."
I sat down at my desk,
the mahogany surface cool under my palms.
For years,
I had pretended to be a "leasing assistant,"
shrinking my voice to fit into the Harrells' narrow world.
I had let Meredith call me "common" while I was negotiating land deals for shopping centers.
I had let Gavin give me a grocery budget while I was managing a fifty-million-dollar portfolio.
The phone on my desk buzzed;
it was the receptionist.
"Mrs. Harrell...
I mean,
Ms. Vance,
there is a Mr. Gavin Harrell in the lobby."
"Send him in,"
I said,
motioning for Marcus to stay.
Gavin burst through the doors,
looking like he hadn't slept in forty-eight hours.
His designer suit was wrinkled,
and his "Europe" watch was missing—likely pawned to pay for a hotel room.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw the office,
the logo of Summit Development etched in glass behind me.
"Stella?"
he gasped,
his eyes darting around the room.
"What is this?
What are you doing here?"
"I work here,
Gavin,"
I said,
leaning back in my chair.
"Actually,
I own this.
All of it."
He laughed,
but it was a broken,
hysterical sound.
"No...
you're a leasing assistant.
You handle small apartments.
You don't have...
this."
"I haven't handled 'small apartments' since before Hazel was born,"
I replied calmly.
"I let you believe that because you couldn't handle the truth."
He stepped toward the desk,
his hands shaking.
"The $300,000,
Stella.
The note.
You have to cancel it.
They've frozen everything.
My mother is staying in a motel!"
"Meredith should be perfectly satisfied with that,"
I said,
echoing her words from the party.
"It’s cold leftovers and a place no one else wanted,
right?"
"You're being cruel,"
he spat,
trying to regain his old authority.
"I am being a businesswoman,"
I corrected him.
"You signed a legal document for a loan you intended to use for a fake lifestyle."
"I am your husband!"
he shouted.
"You were my husband,"
I said,
sliding a new set of papers across the desk.
"Now,
you are a debtor.
And these are the divorce papers."
The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of eleven years of lies.
Gavin looked at the papers,
then back at me,
realizing for the first time that the woman he had married was a stranger.
May you like
He had wanted a wife who made him look bigger,
but he had found a woman who had outgrown him long ago.
