Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Julia asked to meet Abby on Tuesday afternoon. She suggested the café near Abby’s office and arrived carrying no gifts, flowers, or objects intended for the baby.
Abby noticed the empty hands because Julia had spent years bringing something whenever they met. Restraint had become one of the ways she demonstrated that she had listened.
“Robert finished the review,” Julia said after the server brought tea. “Hudson was informed this morning.”
Abby placed her spoon beside the cup. “What did they find?”
“More than the hotel rooms and jewelry.” Julia looked toward the window before continuing. “He charged personal travel as client meetings, used employees to arrange things for Makayla during work hours, and submitted several cash transfers as consulting fees.”
“Makayla was listed as a consultant?” Abby asked as she lowered her voice. “She works in pharmaceutical sales.”
“The payments went through a small company one of Hudson’s friends registered years ago.” Julia folded her hands around her tea. “Makayla may not have known how he recorded the money. Robert’s attorneys are still determining that.”
Abby remembered an email from Makayla thanking Hudson for paying her car bill and clearing her credit-card balance. She had described the money as gifts between people who were building a life together.
“How much did he take?” Abby asked. “Does Robert know?”
“Just over eighty-two thousand dollars across two years.” Julia’s voice tightened around the figure. “Hudson insists most of it was money he would have received through compensation anyway.”
“But it wasn’t his compensation.” Abby did not require an answer. “He lied to have the company pay it.”
Julia nodded. “Robert terminated his employment this morning. Hudson has thirty days to leave the apartment because the company owns it, and his car and expense accounts were canceled immediately.”
The consequences were so complete that Abby struggled to connect them to the man who had once treated the Covington offices as an inheritance awaiting a due date. Hudson had never considered that his place in the company depended on anyone’s continued consent.
“What about his trust?” Abby asked. “He always said the family money belonged to him whether he worked or not.”
“The trust created by his grandfather cannot be changed, but distributions remain limited until he turns forty-five.” Julia stared into her tea.
“Robert and I have covered everything else. The apartment, travel, household expenses, club memberships, and most of his credit cards came through the company or us.”
“And you’re stopping?” Abby asked as she watched grief move across Julia’s face. “All of it?”
“Yes.” Julia lifted her eyes. “Robert told him, ‘You aren’t being punished because you had an affair. You’re being punished because of how you treated people.’ Hudson replied that everyone was using a private mistake as permission to humiliate him.”
The response sounded unchanged from the hotel corridor, the café, and the medical office. Hudson measured wrongdoing by the discomfort of its consequences, never by the harm that preceded them.
“Does he know you’re meeting me?” Abby asked as she glanced toward the café entrance. “I don’t want him appearing here.”
“He doesn’t know.” Julia tightened her hands around the cup. “He may ask you to speak to Robert on his behalf.”
“I won’t.” Abby kept her voice steady. “Robert’s decision has nothing to do with me.”
“I told him the same thing.” Julia leaned forward slightly. “You did not cause this review by showing us the records. Robert and I should have noticed how Hudson used the company long before you had to tell us. We were wrong to trust him.”
Abby looked down at the tea she had not tasted. She believed Julia, though belief did not prevent guilt from searching for a place to attach itself.
“What will he do?” she asked. “Has he ever had a job outside the family business?”
“No.” Julia’s expression hardened with reluctant honesty. “Robert offered to provide references confirming his legitimate work, but Hudson said accepting an ordinary position would make the punishment permanent.”
“He thinks you’ll reverse it.” Abby knew the answer before Julia nodded. “He’ll wait for you to feel sorry for him.”
“We have felt sorry for him most of his life.” Julia sat back and released her cup. “We called it support, but too often we removed the result of whatever choice he made.”
The admission carried more weight than an apology would have. Julia had begun examining her part in Hudson’s entitlement without converting that responsibility into a request for Abby to forgive him.
“He may come to you,” Julia said. “Robert told him we would not reconsider, and Hudson said the situation would change once you returned.”
“I’m not returning.” Abby placed one hand over the side of her stomach as the baby shifted. “My answer has not changed.”
“I know.” Julia looked toward the movement beneath Abby’s blouse but did not comment on it. “I wanted you warned before he tried to make his situation your responsibility.”
Hudson began calling before Abby returned to her office. His first voicemail lasted four minutes, followed by two shorter messages and an email marked urgent.
Abby waited until she was seated at her desk before reading anything. Hudson’s email began with an accusation that she had cooperated with Robert to fabricate grounds for dismissal and ended with an offer to forgive her if she corrected the damage.
Tell my father you misunderstood the records, he wrote. Tell him Makayla manipulated both of us and that you want our daughter to have an intact family. This is her inheritance too. Once he sees that we are united, this entire problem will end.
Abby forwarded the email to her attorney. Then she opened the first voicemail and listened with the volume low.
Hudson moved from rage to injury within the opening minute. He called Robert vindictive, Julia weak, and Abby an ungrateful bitch for the years his family had treated her as one of their own.
“You know I would never take money from the company,” he said in the recording.
“Those expenses were part of doing business, and everyone uses their accounts for personal things. My father has been waiting for an excuse to prove he still controls me, and you handed it to him because Evan convinced you that ruining me would make him look better.”
Abby stopped the message. The baby pressed firmly beneath her ribs, and she adjusted her chair before playing the final minute.
“Fix this now, and we can keep lawyers out of the pregnancy,” Hudson continued. “If you force me to defend myself, I will have to document everything you’ve done to alienate me from my child. Think carefully before you turn one bad decision into the destruction of our daughter’s future.”
The threat was wrapped in the language of cooperation, but her attorney had taught her to separate the demand from its presentation. Abby saved the message, added it to the folder, and did not reply.
Abby canceled Thursday dinner that afternoon. She told Evan only that she had received difficult news and needed to decide whether she wanted company.
His response arrived while she was leaving work. I can come to you, meet at the diner, or leave you alone. You don’t need to choose immediately.
The three options remained on her screen during the drive home. Abby did not want the diner, where the noise would require them to lean toward each other and every passing server would interrupt. She also did not want to sit alone while Hudson’s voice repeated inside her apartment.
Come here at seven, she wrote after parking. I’ll order dinner.
Evan arrived at seven carrying the coffee Abby had left in her pantry for almost a month. She had finally given it to him after the crib was assembled, presenting it with such unnecessary casualness that he must have understood she had thought about the gesture.
“I brought this because your coffee is almost gone,” he said as he set the bag on the counter. “I can take it home again if tonight is not a coffee night.”
“Tonight requires coffee.” Abby closed the door and turned the lock. “Hudson was fired this morning.”
Evan stopped removing his coat. “From Covington Holdings?”
“Robert found eighty-two thousand dollars in false expenses. Money he used during his affair.” Abby walked toward the kitchen. “They took the car, canceled his accounts, and gave him thirty days to leave the apartment.”
Evan hung his coat on the hook beside the door. “How did you find out?”
“Julia told me before Hudson could.” Abby took two mugs from the cabinet. “Hudson wants me to tell Robert I misunderstood the evidence and reconcile with him so they’ll believe he has changed.”
“Are you going to respond?” Evan asked as he remained on the other side of the counter. “Or has your attorney advised against it?”
“I forwarded everything to her.” Abby filled the kettle and set it on the stove. “I know this is not my fault, but I’m the person who brought the records to Robert.”
Evan stood a step behind Abby as she leveled the coffee grounds in the scoop.
The kitchen light glinted on her cheekbones; steam curled from the dark powder, and the sharp scent of roasted beans filled the air.
He watched her measure each spoonful with careful precision, as if every granule mattered more than the conversation they were having.
“Robert asked for them after recognizing company accounts.” Evan’s voice was low, almost hesitant. He leaned forward, eyes fixed on her hands. “He chose to investigate his own business.”
Abby snapped the bag shut, pressing the air out with a soft hiss. She set it aside, her fingers lingering on the counter’s cool surface. “I know,” she said, each word measured. “Knowing has not stopped me from feeling as if I pushed the first piece.”
His gaze drifted to her profile. “You showed the truth to someone responsible for the money,” he reminded her gently. “Hudson created every record they reviewed.”