Chapter 8 - The Audit
The audit began on Monday.
Andrew fought it for six hours.
Then his investors reminded him that the operating agreement gave them the right to inspect financial records.
By Tuesday, they had hired an outside accounting firm.
By Wednesday, Andrew stopped calling me and started calling Evan.
Evan refused every call.
“You're enjoying that,” I said when he told me.
“A little.”
“Don't.”
“I know.”
He became serious.
“Lauren, there is something else.”
I waited.
“The committee found another deck.”
“How old?”
“Six months.”
“To whom?”
“A private family office in New York.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did he claim?”
“That Vance & Horizon had approved up to twelve million dollars in co-investment capital.”
I stared at him.
“Twelve million?”
“Yes.”
“Did he raise money from them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“They passed.”
“Thank God.”
“But the representation exists.”
“Send it to outside counsel.”
“Already done.”
“And keep me out of the investigation.”
“I am.”
I rubbed my temples.
“It keeps getting worse.”
“Yes.”
Evan watched me.
“You knew Andrew had problems.”
“I knew he overleveraged.”
“You didn't know this?”
“No.”
“You never looked?”
That question hurt because it was fair.
“I deliberately kept his business separate.”
“Because?”
“I didn't want to become his parent.”
Evan said nothing.
“The irony isn't lost on me.”
“Lauren.”
“Yes?”
“You couldn't audit your marriage.”
“No.”
“But you did finance it.”
That landed harder.
I looked away.
“I know.”
At home, the girls were beginning to settle into the condo.
Chloe had claimed the guest room because it had a window seat.
Sophia chose the smaller room because it was farther from the kitchen and therefore, according to her, “more private.”
I purchased nothing new except bedding.
I wanted them to understand this wasn't a vacation.
It was a transition.
On Wednesday evening, Andrew asked to see them.
His second visit went worse than the first.
He arrived distracted.
He checked his phone constantly.
He asked Sophia whether I had “said anything about Daddy's work.”
She told me afterward.
“What did you say?”
“That you don't talk about Daddy's work with us.”
“Good.”
“He asked if Grandpa comes over.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“What else?”
“He asked if you were going to move.”
“Did he ask you that directly?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you tell us things when we need to know.”
I smiled.
“That sounds like me.”
She looked proud.
“Then he said maybe you tell us too much.”
My smile disappeared.
“Did that bother you?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“Because I think he wanted me to tell him stuff.”
I crouched beside her.
“If Dad asks questions that make you uncomfortable, you can say you don't know.”
“What if I do know?”
“You can say you don't want to answer.”
“Is that lying?”
“No.”
She considered that.
“What if he gets mad?”
“Then that's his feeling to manage.”
Sophia nodded slowly.
I added the incident to the parenting log Naomi had recommended.
Not as ammunition.
As documentation.
Andrew's third visit was scheduled for Saturday.
He canceled.
Business emergency.
Chloe cried.
Sophia didn't.
“Daddy's busy,” she said.
The sentence sounded too practiced.
I hated it.
That evening, Mark called again.
“Can we meet?”
“About?”
“Andrew.”
“I can't discuss the company investigation.”
“This isn't about Horizon.”
“Then what?”
“Mom.”
I met him the next morning at a coffee shop.
Mark looked older than he had two weeks earlier.
He placed his coffee down without drinking it.
“Mom called my investor.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“She wanted him to help Andrew.”
“That is incredibly inappropriate.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“He asked why Andrew needs help.”
“And?”
“I didn't know what to tell him.”
I waited.
Mark looked at the table.
“Mom has always done this.”
“Done what?”
“Moved resources toward whichever son she thinks represents the family best.”
“Meaning Andrew.”
“Usually.”
“You're older.”
“I know.”
“Why Andrew?”
Mark smiled without humor.
“He was always better at performing.”
That sounded exactly right.
“He had the grades.”
“Scholarship?”
“No.”
“Mom said he did.”
I frowned.
“He was on partial academic aid.”
“She told everyone it was full.”
Mark nodded.
“She does that.”
“What else?”
“She told family friends he graduated first in his class.”
“He didn't.”
“Not close.”
I sat back.
“Why?”
“Because she needed the story.”
“What story?”
“That the Vance men win.”
The phrase made my skin crawl.
Mark continued.
“When I got divorced, she told everybody I ended the marriage because my ex-wife didn't want children.”
“Was that true?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“We wanted different lives.”
He looked away.
“She also told people I refused to have daughters.”
I stared at him.
“Why would she say that?”
“Because it made me sound like a Vance.”
The sadness in his voice surprised me.
“You never corrected her?”
“For years, no.”
“Why?”
“Same reason Andrew doesn't.”
“Approval.”
Mark nodded.
“You think it doesn't matter until you realize you've spent half your life making decisions around it.”
I thought about Andrew.
“How much does she know about his finances?”
“Very little.”
“How much does she think she knows?”
“Everything.”
That made sense.
Mark lowered his voice.
“She gave Andrew money last year.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand.”
I stared at him.
“For what?”
“She thought she was investing in the Puerto Vallarta project.”
The Rivera note.
“Do you know whether she received documents?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know.”
“You need to get them.”
“Why?”
“Because if Andrew took family money as an investment, she may have rights.”
Mark's face changed.
“You think he lied to her?”
“I think nobody should assume anything anymore.”
That afternoon, Mark called back.
His voice was tight.
“I found the documents.”
“And?”
“Lauren.”
He exhaled.
“They say Mom's money bought a ten percent interest.”
“In what entity?”
“AV Mexico Hospitality.”
I knew the name.
It was not the entity that owned the project.
My stomach tightened.
“Mark.”
“Yes?”
“Do not discuss this with me further.”
“Why?”
“Because Horizon has exposure to related entities.”
“Is Mom's investment real?”
“I can't answer that.”
“You know something.”
“I know enough to tell you to hire independent counsel for Patricia.”
He went silent.
“It's that bad?”
“I don't know.”
That was technically true.
But I suspected.
And three days later, Patricia learned exactly how dangerous blind loyalty could become.
The outside audit concluded that AV Mexico Hospitality owned no interest in the resort project at all.
The company had received Patricia's money.
Then transferred most of it to Andrew's operating account.
Her supposed investment did not exist.
Andrew had taken a quarter-million dollars from his own mother using paperwork that described an asset the entity never owned.
When Patricia called me that evening, she wasn't angry.
She sounded frightened.
“Lauren.”
“Yes?”
“What did my son do?”
For the first time, I didn't have an answer that could protect either of them.
So I gave her the truth.
May you like
“You need to ask Andrew.”
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