Chapter 8
I asked Celeste why she wanted Erin to kiss me.
Her first answer was simple.
“For fun.”
I did not believe it.
Neither did Charles.
I waited.
Silence becomes useful when the other person cannot tolerate it.
Eventually she rolled her eyes.
“My friends said no waitress would dare touch you.”
“That’s still not enough.”
She stared.
I continued.
“You could have chosen anyone working tonight.”
Nothing.
“You chose Daniel Walsh’s daughter.”
Her face tightened.
“You knew her application.”
Nothing.
“You knew she needed exactly enough money to become tempted.”
Still nothing.
Then Erin whispered:
“You wanted a picture.”
Celeste looked at her.
There.
Reaction.
I turned.
“What picture?”
Erin looked toward the ballroom.
“Her friend was filming.”
I remembered.
A blonde woman at Celeste’s table had held her phone up during the kiss.
At the time I assumed gossip.
Now it mattered.
“Why?”
Celeste laughed softly.
“Because tomorrow Erin was going to meet you.”
I looked at Erin.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She swallowed.
“I was.”
That surprised me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know if you’d listen.”
Fair.
“What were you bringing?”
She touched the chain around her neck.
“The key.”
Everything clicked.
Celeste knew Erin planned to approach me.
If she could film Erin accepting money to kiss me first, then tomorrow she could frame Erin as a desperate waitress trying to manipulate the Boss.
Not to police.
Not publicly.
To me.
Destroy credibility before truth arrived.
I looked at Celeste.
“You planned to show me the video after Erin came forward.”
She smiled faintly.
“Would you have believed a waitress who took money to kiss you?”
I hated the fact that a version of me might have hesitated.
That was why the plan was clever.
Erin looked at me.
I answered the question honestly.
“Maybe not immediately.”
She looked down.
I continued.
“That is why Celeste chose it.”
Truth mattered more than flattering myself.
Celeste had weaponized class, shame, and my own assumptions.
May you like
She did not need Erin silent forever.
Only long enough for me to doubt her.
