“Oh, spare me the speech.”
There he was.
The real Ryan had returned.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then his voice changed. The arrogance faded, replaced by something thinner.
“Vanessa’s parents are going to lose their minds.”
“That is not my problem.”
“You don’t understand. Her mother already sent the invitations to their entire circle. Her father told clients about the club. If we lose that venue, it makes us look—”
He stopped.
“Poor?” I asked.
“Unreliable.”
“You mean ordinary.”
“Claire, please.”
It was the first time I had heard him use that word with me.
Not because he was sorry. Because he was cornered.
I took a sip of coffee.
“Did you mean what you said to Emma?”
“What?”
“That she wasn’t worth an expensive cake.”
He groaned. “I was irritated. Kids cry about everything.”
“That is not an answer.”
“Fine. No, I didn’t mean it.”
“Why did you throw the cake away?”
“I told you, it was in the way.”
“Why was it underneath coffee grounds?”
Silence.
I waited.
Finally, he said, “You always make everything about her.”
My grip tightened around the mug.
“She’s my daughter.”
“And this wedding is the biggest event our family has ever had. Yesterday was supposed to be our final planning weekend, but everyone was running around celebrating a kid’s birthday like it was some royal occasion.”
The truth settled between us.
He had not destroyed the cake because it was in the way.
He had destroyed it because, for one afternoon, a child had received attention he believed belonged to him.
I said, “Your wedding is no longer connected to my company.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“No, Ryan. I regret helping you in the first place.”
I ended the call.
Ten minutes later, an unfamiliar number appeared on my screen.
I almost ignored it.
Then a woman’s voice said, “Claire, this is Vanessa.”
She sounded calm, but I could hear something brittle underneath.
“I need you to tell me exactly what happened yesterday.”
### Part 4
Vanessa did not sound angry.
That surprised me.
I had expected threats, accusations, or some carefully polished speech about how much money had already been spent. Instead, she asked whether Emma was all right.
“She’s quiet,” I said. “She keeps saying she doesn’t want another birthday party.”
Vanessa exhaled slowly.
“What did Ryan say to her?”
I hesitated.
I did not like Vanessa. I barely knew her beyond formal dinners where she spoke about vacation properties and complained about service. But I also knew Ryan. If she was calling me directly, he had probably told her a version in which I attacked him without warning.
“He threw her cake in the trash,” I said. “When she asked why, he told her she wasn’t worth wasting expensive cake on.”
There was a long silence.
“Did anyone hear him?”
“My mother and father came in afterward. Emma heard him.”
“I see.”
Her voice had changed.
“Ryan told me the cake slipped while he was clearing space.”
“It was under coffee grounds and food wrappers.”
Another silence.
Then Vanessa said, “He told my parents you canceled the venue because you were offended that he criticized your catering.”
I laughed without humor. “Of course he did.”
“I’m not asking you to reverse anything right now,” she said. “I need to understand the contract.”
I explained that Ryan had received a corporate rate because I had guaranteed the booking through my company. Without that guarantee, he and Vanessa would need to negotiate directly with the club at the regular price.
“How much more?” she asked.
“More than fifteen thousand dollars before additional service fees.”
She inhaled sharply.
“Ryan told me the discount came through one of my father’s contacts.”