Melissa.
“What happened?”
“How do you know something happened?”
“You never call at ten seventeen on a Tuesday to discuss the weather.”
I told her about the charge. She fell quiet. “The wedding hotel?” BookVenues
“Yes.”
“Same dates?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you he was attending?”
“He isn’t invited.”
“Do you know why he booked it?”
Beyond my glass office wall, coworkers were good-naturedly disputing printer paper. “I think I do.”
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t confront him.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Screenshot it.”
“I already did.”
She laughed lightly. “You make my job easier.”
I forwarded her the charge. Daniel had breached the agreement, perhaps through absentmindedness, or perhaps because separate financial consequences were unfamiliar to him. I favored the latter.
What puzzled me was his choice of hotel. I assumed he and Rachel were attending something nearby and he had simply been careless. Even that gave him too much credit.
