The foundation’s property had been taken.
Its event had been used to legitimize a lie.
Its principal sponsor had tried to silence its chairwoman in front of donors.
Those were facts.
Grant could insult me, but he could not make the facts emotional enough to dismiss.
Eleanor leaned toward Nathaniel.
“My bid was made in good faith.
Surely the matching clause can be waived.”
“Only by the foundation’s governing board,” he said.
Everyone looked at me.
Grant’s mouth twisted.
“There it is.”
“There what is?”
“This was the plan.
You wanted control.”
I removed my wedding ring and placed it beside the contract.
“I wanted you not to bring your pregnant mistress to a children’s hospital fundraiser wearing stolen foundation property.”
For the first time that evening, Grant had no immediate answer.
Sloane pushed back her chair.
“I’m leaving.”
Rebecca stepped between her and the door.
“You may leave after the gown is returned.”
Sloane’s face flushed.
“You expect me to undress here?”
“A private suite has been prepared,” Rebecca said.
“Your clothes were brought from the hotel room.”
Sloane looked at Grant, waiting for him to defend her.
He was still staring at the seven-million-dollar clause.
That was the moment she finally understood him.
Grant’s devotion lasted only while she cost him nothing.
“You said you were going to leave her,” Sloane whispered.
Eleanor inhaled sharply.
Grant’s gaze snapped toward Sloane.
“Not now.”
“You said the announcement tonight would make it official.”
“I said not now.”
“You told me the dress was a symbol.”
“It was a dress.”
Her expression cracked.
To Grant, the gown had never represented a future with her.
It had been a weapon aimed at me.
He wanted photographs of Sloane beneath my foundation’s logo.
He wanted donors to see her beside him.
He wanted the humiliation completed before I could respond.
Sloane had mistaken cruelty toward me for commitment to her.
Rebecca escorted her into the adjoining suite.
A few minutes later, Sloane returned wearing a cream hotel robe.
The midnight-blue gown rested inside a protective garment bag.
Without it, she looked smaller, almost ordinary.
She placed the bag on the table.
“I didn’t know it belonged to the foundation,” she said.
“I believe you,” I replied.
Grant looked at me with open disbelief.
I continued, “But you knew it was meant for me, and you wore it anyway.”
Sloane lowered her eyes.
There was nothing more to say.
