"We need to talk.” I reach for her hand, taking it. “Now."
"Okay. Just let me?—"
"Now, Harper."
The investors sense the tension and politely excuse themselves.
"Outside," I say.
"Outside? Victor, it's freezing?—"
"I don't care."
I guide her through the ballroom, past the curious stares, out through different terrace doors that lead to the covered pool area.
This section is more sheltered—a winter garden setup with tall heat lamps positioned around wrought-iron furniture. The pool itself is covered for the season, a tarp stretched tight across the water. Beyond the covering, I can see the fountain still running, water cascading down in defiance of the cold, lit from below with blue lights that make the spray look surreal.
Rain drums against the glass overhead, creating a sound like static, and Harper wraps her arms around herself, shivering despite the heat lamps.
"Victor, what's going on? You're scaring me."
I pull out my phone and show her the screenshots Patricia forwarded to me. The color drains from her pretty face, stark in the blue-white light reflecting off the fountain.
She licks her lips before parting them. “Victor, I can explain?—"
"Can you?” I can barely hear my own voice over the roar in my head. “Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've been in contact with FoodFirst about our acquisition plans since before you even started at StreamEats."
"I was—she approached me?—"
"And you didn't think to mention it? At any point in the past six weeks?"
The heat lamp beside us flickers, throwing shadows across her face.
"I was going to tell you?—"
"When? When were you going to tell me? After the board vote? After you'd secured your position?"
"No! I was going to tell you before Roman's wedding. I promised you I would?—"
"You promised." I laugh, and it sounds bitter even to my own ears, echoing off the glass. "Just like you promised to tell me about your father's medical bills. Just like you promised a lot of things, Harper."
"I never gave her anything," Harper says desperately, her breath fogging in the cold. "Look at the emails. I never gave her any information. I told her no."
"You told her no eventually. After how many emails? After how much consideration?"
Rain pounds harder above us, the sound almost deafening.
"Victor, please?—"
"How much did she offer you?"
"What?"
"How much money did FoodFirst offer you to betray me?"
Harper flinches like I've slapped her. "It wasn't like that?—"
"Then what was it like? Explain it to me. Make me understand why you were in contact with a competitor about confidential acquisition information and never thought to mention it."
