Chapter 6 - Jennifer’s Version

At twelve twenty-three the next afternoon, I walked into the café on Monroe wearing the same navy coat I wore to client meetings.

I wanted to look ordinary.

If Solomon was watching me somehow, I wanted him to see a woman getting coffee between appointments.

Jennifer was already there.

She sat in the back corner with both hands wrapped around a cup she clearly had not touched.

When she saw me, she stood.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she said:

“You came.”

“You told me to.”

“I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I wasn’t sure I should.”

She looked toward the door.

“Sit down.”

I remained standing.

“First question.”

Jennifer swallowed.

“Okay.”

“Are you sleeping with my husband?”

Her face changed.

No denial.

No confusion.

No outrage.

Just shame.

“Yes.”

The word hurt less than I expected.

Maybe because Theo had already told me.

Maybe because betrayal becomes different once it has a shape.

I sat.

“How long?”

“Fourteen months.”

I nodded once.

“Did you wear my robe?”

Jennifer looked down.

“Yes.”

“Did you know Theo saw you?”

“Not at first.”

“But later?”

“Yes.”

“And you asked Charlotte to keep him out of the bedroom.”

Jennifer’s eyes filled with tears.

“I know how it sounds.”

“It sounds exactly like what you wrote.”

“I panicked.”

“You asked his grandmother to move a five-year-old child around so you could continue sleeping with his father in his mother’s bed.”

Jennifer flinched.

“I know.”

“No. I don’t think you do.”

She looked at me.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”

“Good.”

“I’m asking you to listen.”

“Then start talking.”

Jennifer inhaled slowly.

“Solomon told me your marriage was over.”

I laughed.

“Of course he did.”

“He said you were living together because of Theo.”

“We sleep in the same bed.”

“I know that now.”

“You wore my robe in that bed.”

Her eyes dropped again.

“I know.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Okay.”

I leaned forward.

“Why did you tell me not to confront him?”

Jennifer’s fingers tightened around the cup.

“Because Solomon is in trouble.”

“What kind?”

“Financial.”

“How bad?”

“Bad enough that he has been trying to get your father’s house for almost a year.”

My stomach tightened.

I kept my voice flat.

“Explain.”

Jennifer looked around again.

“The agency has been losing major accounts. Solomon thought he could fix it by moving money through outside vendors.”

“What money?”

“Client production budgets. Media placement deposits. Retainers.”

“He stole from the agency?”

“He calls it temporary reallocation.”

“What do you call it?”

Jennifer finally met my eyes.

“Fraud.”

The word sat between us.

“How much?”

“I don’t know the full amount.”

“Try.”

“Over seven hundred thousand dollars.”

I stared at her.

“That is not a rounding error.”

“No.”

“And Northline?”

Jennifer closed her eyes.

“My company.”

“I know.”

Her eyes opened.

“You know about Northline?”

“I know enough.”

She whispered something I almost missed.

“Oh God.”

“Why?”

“Because if you found Northline, Solomon will assume I told you.”

“You are telling me.”

“Now.”

I sat back.

“What did Northline do?”

“At first, real consulting. Freelance strategy work. Small projects.”

“And then?”

“Solomon asked to route vendor payments through it.”

“Why would you agree?”

“He said it was temporary.”

I gave her a look.

She laughed bitterly.

“Yes. I hear it now.”

“What happened to the money?”

“Some went back into agency accounts to cover shortfalls. Some went to a private credit line. Some disappeared.”

“To where?”

“I don’t know.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I expect you to believe I became suspicious too late.”

I said nothing.

Jennifer continued.

“Three months ago, the agency’s controller started asking questions. Solomon needed collateral to refinance the line before an internal audit.”

“The house.”

“Yes.”

“But the house belongs to my father.”

“Solomon believed he could get him to transfer it.”

“How?”

“Charlotte.”

I felt something cold move through me.

“What about her?”

“She said your father would eventually give in if you asked.”

“I never asked.”

“That was the problem.”

“So they planned to make me?”

Jennifer hesitated.

“Solomon said once you understood what was at stake, you would.”

“What was at stake?”

“Your marriage.”

I stared at her.

Then I understood.

“The affair.”

Jennifer’s face went pale.

“He was going to use you to pressure me.”

“I didn’t know that at first.”

“But you knew later.”

“Yes.”

“How much later?”

She did not answer.

That was an answer too.

I leaned toward her.

“Tell me about the cameras.”

Jennifer’s expression changed again.

“What cameras?”

“Do not insult me.”

She went silent.

“The exterior cameras were shut off whenever you came to my house.”

“Yes.”

“Who did it?”

“Usually Charlotte.”

“Why her?”

“Solomon said it was safer if he didn’t touch the system.”

“Safer for what?”

“In case you checked the account logs.”

I almost smiled.

“He underestimated me.”

“Everyone did.”

The sentence irritated me because it sounded like admiration.

I did not want Jennifer’s admiration.

“What about the hidden cameras?”

Her face went blank.

“I didn’t install them.”

“Who did?”

“I think Charlotte.”

“Think?”

“She showed me clips once.”

My heart began pounding.

“What clips?”

“You coming home late. Theo crying. You arguing with Solomon in the kitchen.”

“When did I argue with him?”

“Months ago. Something about preschool pickup.”

I remembered.

Solomon had forgotten Theo at preschool.

I had left a client dinner and driven across town.

When I got home, I told him that being busy did not excuse forgetting our child.

Charlotte had later called me controlling.

Jennifer continued.

“Charlotte said she was documenting your behavior.”

“For what?”

“She called it insurance.”

“Insurance against what?”

“You refusing to cooperate.”

“With the house?”

“With everything.”

I felt sick.

“So she has been building a file on me.”

Jennifer nodded.

“Why would Solomon allow cameras that could record you entering our bedroom?”

“He didn’t like it.”

“But?”

“Charlotte said she controlled the archive.”

Of course.

The hidden cameras were not evidence for Solomon.

They were leverage for Charlotte.

Against me.

Against Jennifer.

Possibly against Solomon too.

“What does Charlotte want?”

Jennifer laughed without humor.

“Security.”

“Meaning?”

“She thinks you and your father have always looked down on Solomon.”

“We haven’t.”

“She thinks you could leave him tomorrow and he’d walk away with nothing.”

“That is not true.”

“It doesn’t matter what is true. It matters what she believes.”

“What does she believe?”

“That the house should be Solomon’s because he has lived there seven years.”

I stared at her.

“That is not how ownership works.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Sorry.”

I took a breath.

“Did you create the transfer agreement?”

Jennifer’s shoulders dropped.

“Yes.”

“With the fake law firm name?”

“It was an old template. I changed the parties.”

“Why?”

“Solomon asked me.”

“You created a document designed to move my father’s property into an entity my husband could borrow against.”

“I didn’t know he planned to borrow without your approval.”

“You wrote the operating agreement.”

“No.”

“Who did?”

“Solomon.”

“He is not a lawyer.”

“No, but he had help.”

“From whom?”

Jennifer looked toward the door.

“I don’t know.”

“You expect me to believe that too?”

“I know a name.”

“What name?”

“Martin Vale.”

“Who is that?”

“A lender.”

“What kind of lender?”

“The kind you do not miss payments to.”

I stared at her.

“Are you telling me Solomon borrowed from criminals?”

“I’m telling you I met Martin once and decided I never wanted to meet him again.”

My phone vibrated in my bag.

A text from my father.

Theo asked whether he can stay another night. I said yes unless you object.

I almost cried with relief.

I typed:

Yes. Keep him there.

Jennifer watched me.

“Theo?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

I looked at her.

“For the affair?”

“For what happened to him.”

“You participated.”

“I know.”

I did not correct her this time.

She deserved to sit inside those two words.

I leaned forward.

“Why are you helping me?”

Jennifer’s eyes hardened.

“Because Solomon used my company to move money without telling me.”

“There it is.”

“I didn’t say I was noble.”

“Good.”

“He also told me you had agreed to divorce.”

“I hadn’t.”

“I know that now.”

“And Charlotte?”

“She knew he was lying to both of us.”

I felt the anger rise again.

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she doesn’t care who Solomon loves.”

Jennifer’s voice became flat.

“She cares who protects him.”

I looked down at my untouched coffee.

“What do you have?”

Jennifer reached into her bag.

“I brought copies of Northline statements and emails.”

She placed a flash drive on the table.

I did not touch it.

“Give it to Maya.”

“Your lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know I haven’t planted something on it?”

I looked at her.

“That is why you are giving it to Maya.”

Jennifer almost smiled.

Then her phone buzzed.

She looked at the screen.

Her face drained of color.

“What?” I asked.

She stood.

“I have to go.”

“Why?”

“Charlotte.”

“What about her?”

Jennifer turned the phone toward me.

A location alert was displayed.

Shared device tracking enabled.

My stomach dropped.

“She tracks you?”

“She tracks the company phone.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

Jennifer swallowed.

“She knows I’m on Monroe.”

“That doesn’t mean she knows who you’re meeting.”

Jennifer looked through the café window.

A gray sedan had just pulled to the curb.

Charlotte’s car.

May you like

[COMPLETED] She waited ten years for her fiancé, but the night she marri...

[COMPLETED] Five Years After My Mafia Husband Chose Another Woman, He Me...

[COMPLETED] I CALLED MY HUSBAND 18 TIMES WHILE OUR SON WAS DYING. EIGHT...

Jennifer whispered:

“She does now.”