Chapter 2 - The Side Door
Silas Beck gave a small laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "A six-year-old misunderstood a business call. I'm the venue owner, Daniel. Of course I talked to Harper."
"Then come back here," Daniel said. "Don't explain it from the exit."
The guests parted reluctantly. Several phones rose. Daniel had saved for months, believing the celebration would make Lucía happy again. Right now, his daughter was clinging to his sleeve so hard her knuckles looked white.
Harper walked down the steps. "We're not going to let a child's jealousy ruin our wedding. Lucía has been struggling since her mother died."
"Do not use Carmen to explain this," Daniel said.
It was the first time he'd spoken sharply to Harper in public. His late wife's name seemed to steady him. He turned toward his mother, Rosa, in the front row. "Take Lucía to the library. Stay with her."
"I want to stay with you," Lucía said.
"I'll come. I promise."
Rosa squeezed his arm as she passed. "Keep that promise, mijo."
Silas straightened his cuffs. "Listen, a lot of people have traveled for this. Let's all calm down."
"Did you go to my house eleven nights ago?" Daniel asked.
"I stopped by to discuss the event."
"At midnight?"
Silas's jaw moved once. He hadn't been told the time. Harper saw it too; she lowered her eyes.
Daniel turned to the minister. "The ceremony is off. At least for today."
A gasp traveled across the room. Harper's mother made a sound like a cough, then demanded an explanation. But Daniel was already walking after Rosa and Lucía.
He passed a service alcove where the lights were dim and heard Silas speaking behind him. "You promised she didn't hear."
Harper answered, too low for the words to travel.
Daniel stopped. He could have walked back and confronted them. Instead he lifted his phone and called the family attorney whose number he'd saved months ago for an entirely different reason.
Before she picked up, an email arrived from Bellweather House accounting: FINAL EVENT GUARANTEE — SIGNED BY DANIEL NAVARRO.
May you like
He opened the attachment. Beneath a promise to pay eighty-six thousand dollars was his signature.
He had never signed it.
