smile she always gave him. “Still fixing things at that warehouse?”
“I manage properties,” he said.
“Cute.”
Halfway through dinner, she pushed a folder toward me.
“I need you to sign something.”
Inside was a “confirmation” of those same fake financial statements.
I closed the folder.
“I’m not your CFO.”
Her smile vanished.
Mom sighed. “Emily, don’t be difficult. Vanessa finally has a serious investor.”
“Which investor?”
Vanessa’s eyes glittered. “Mercer Family Holdings. Old-money people. They’re desperate to get into events.”
Daniel slowly took a drink of water.
I asked, “
