Page 90 of Make You Love Me

“I can’t believe this… I mean, I see it. It’s here, right in front of me, but I still can’t believe it. She’s always so concerned with keeping her image and how we’re perceived and this whole time it’s been her who’s been the stain on our family,” I say, more to myself than to the two with me.

“I’ve always known Ethel to be a manipulative and deceitful woman. But it wasn’t until this past summer that I started to see the full scope of what she was doing. Of course, I told Mr. Richmond what I suspected, and he started an investigation of his own. So, I can't take all the credit for this.” He waves his hand over the pile of papers. “Most of that was thanks to your papa.” I give James a sad smile. My Papa, poor man must have been riddled with disgust at what his daughter had done, what she had turned into.

“From what I gathered, Ethel opened a line of credit against the Country Club property around ten years ago to help catch her up financially. Looks like it was all working fine until about six years ago when she stopped making her loan payments. I believe they closed the line of credit at that point, and she had no more money or source of income. That’s when she created the Richmond Research Fund and skimmed from the donations in order to pay her employees, and whatever else she pleased.”

“How—how did you figure this all out?” Greyson asks, both of us hanging on to every word.

“Well, it definitely took some time to piece together the whole puzzle. For the last two years of the research fund, I made sure to obtain a copy of the total donations after expenses versus what was deposited into the fund’s account. At first, everything seemed legit until I saw the invoice for event expenses. By using her own country club as the location, she was able to inflate the cost of every service provided. She would take the difference in cost, store it in an offshore account, then use it when she needed it. Just look here at this comparable.” James says while shifting through the papers to find the document he's referring to.

“You see here.” He points to a document labeled Willington Wedding. “This wedding was hosted last November for five hundred guests.” Greyson and I scan the document, noting the extensive invoice totaling sixty thousand dollars. From what I can see, the item list is comparable to what was seen at the gala the other night. The white glove servers, top-of-the-line passed hors d'oeuvres and sit-down menu, high-end linens, house string quartet, and DJ, the similarities go on and on.

“Now look at what Ethel’s event cost for three hundred guests on a similar weekend, with an almost identical itemized list,” James says while pushing another invoice over to us.

After several moments I hear Greyson say, “Holy Shit!” Holy shit, indeed. Like James said, Ethel’s event mirrors the Willington wedding. However, Ethel’s invoice is more than double the cost. She claimed the event cost the foundation a whopping hundred and thirty thousand dollars to host.

“But how did this pass the events coordinator and manager?” I question, holding the questionable document in my hands.

“Because this document is what the country club has on file,” he says, sliding another document our way.

This one is almost identical to the Willington’s, cost and all. I knew it, I fucking knew it. To think Ethel started that foundation out of the goodness of her heart. No, she has no heart. She started it so she could somehow find a way to skate along.

“I just can’t believe this… No, I can believe it, I just can't believe she would stoop to this level to maintain appearances. If she was that hard up for the money she could have easily gone to her father. Even with their strained relationship, he would have helped her, I'm sure of it.

I look at Greyson and see pure rage written all over his face. His eyes are locked on the papers below, his jaw tense, and his body is tight beside mine. I give him a nudge with my shoulder, trying to break him out of his stare. He gives me a sad smile and squeezes my hand that’s resting on the booth seat between us.

“How long has she been doing this?” Greyson asks, taking the words right from my mouth.

“As long as the foundation has been active, so five years now,” he says solemnly.

“Papa knew of this, of the money laundering?” I ask, turning my attention back to James.

“Unfortunately, yes, he did. I'm sure you’ve read his note by now. It was the one left for her at the reading of his will. He was devastated when we realized what she was doing.”

Papa’s note was a warning letter to Ethel. He had said he knew what she was doing and rather than call the cops, he was giving her a chance to right her wrongs. He didn’t want me to know what she had done and didn’t want any of the backlash to fall in my lap.

“His note mentioned something about consequences if she didn’t fix this…” I say, recalling that specific part.

“I was the consequence. I was to do with this information as I saw fit. And seeing what Ethel has done to you and your family, I thought it was best for you to decide.”

Just then a phone rings, startling us all out of our haze of revelations. James shifts in his seat and shows the screen to us. It’s Ethel calling, I'm sure to summon him back home and order him around.

“I have to go, but please call me once you decide what you want to do with all of this. I want to help however I can.”

“Thank you so much, James, you’ve done enough already. I truly appreciate this.”

“Please, it's my pleasure to see that wicked witch go down.” He goes to leave our booth but stops. “Oh, before I forget, I want you to give this to your dad.” He hands Greyson a sealed envelope with ‘Smith Rexwood’ written on it.What the hell?

“I think your father would like to see this,” he says, then tips his head and leaves us.

Greyson and I just stare at one another, unsure of what our next steps are. He gathers the paperwork and scoots out of the booth, extending his hand to help me stand up.

“I didn’t get to talk to my dad last night and I‘m wondering if this envelope has anything to do with what Ethel was spewing about having evidence on him and the club. I honestly just thought she was saying shit to get into my head, but now I’m starting to second guess that,” he says with worry in his tone as we walk towards his truck.

“We will figure all this out. If she has anything on him, it can’t be anything worse than what we have on her. You know your dad, he’s a good man,” I say, and he nods at me knowing I’m right, but it doesn’t take away that uneasy look I see on his face as he shuts my door.

“What’s our plan?” I question him as he gets in on his side of the truck.

“Not really sure, but I think we need to go see my dad,” he says as he throws his truck into reverse, and we speed off towards town.

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