Chapter 5 - The Gala Aftermath
The rain had stopped by two o'clock in the morning, leaving the parking lot of the Bellevue Country Club glistening under the tall sodium lights.
Vance Mercer stepped out through the grand glass doors, buttoning his wool coat against the damp night chill. He was flushed from three glasses of high-end bourbon, his chest puffed out with the artificial confidence of a man who believed he was on the cusp of greatness. His mother, Evelyn, leaned heavily on his arm, her silk dress rustling as she walked toward his sedan.
"That was a triumph, Vance! A absolute triumph!" Evelyn gushed, her voice shrill in the quiet night air. "You spoke with three senior vice presidents tonight! Did you see how impressed Mr. Henderson was when you mentioned your investment portfolio?"
"I told you, Mom," Vance smirked, pulling his car keys from his pocket. "It's all about positioning. Once you project power, people fall in line."
"And what about Chloe?" Evelyn sneered, rolling her eyes as she reached the passenger side door. "Has she stopped blowing up your phone with her fake medical emergencies?"
Vance pulled his phone from his tuxedo pocket and glanced at the screen.
There were no new missed calls from Chloe. No frantic text messages. No pleading voicemails. Just a heavy, unnatural silence.
A minor pang of irritation flickered in Vance's chest. She's playing the silent treatment now, he thought bitterly. She thinks if she goes quiet, I'll feel guilty and come running home to rub her feet.
"She's probably asleep," Vance muttered, unlocking the doors. "Or she drove herself to her little community clinic to make a point. I'll deal with her tomorrow morning. I'll tell her that if she ever embarrasses me like that again, I'm taking the baby and putting her on an allowance."
"Good!" Evelyn snapped, settling into the heated leather seat. "She needs to learn her place. You are a Mercer. You are going places in Sterling Enterprises, and a needy, ordinary art teacher is only going to drag you down."
As Vance pulled out of the country club driveway and onto the highway, his phone suddenly chimed with a high-priority email notification.
He glanced at the dashboard screen. The email was from the Office of the Chairman - Sterling Enterprises.
Vance’s heart gave a violent, thrashing leap against his ribs. He almost hit the brakes in the middle of the road.
"What is it?" Evelyn asked, noticing his sudden change in posture.
"An email..." Vance stammered, his eyes wide as he read the preview text on the digital dashboard:
MR. MERCER. CHAIRMAN ARTHUR STERLING REQUESTS YOUR IMMEDIATE PRESENCE AT ST. JUDE’S HOSPITAL, PRIVATE WING 4, ROOM 402. REGARDING AN URGENT PERSONAL AND CORPORATE MATTER. ATTENDANCE IS MANDATORY.
Evelyn gasped, clutching her ruby necklace. "St. Jude’s? Is Mr. Sterling sick? Did he have a stroke?!"
"No..." Vance murmured, his mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. "Room 402 is in the executive maternity and private trauma pavilion! Why would the Chairman be at St. Jude's at two in the morning?!"
Then, a sudden, thrilling realization bloomed inside Vance's arrogant mind.
Chloe. Chloe must have managed to get herself admitted to St. Jude’s! And somehow, the hospital’s executive board—which Arthur Sterling heavily endowed—had flagged the Mercer name when she checked in! The Chairman must have heard that an employee's wife was in the wing and decided to check on the situation personally to show corporate leadership!
"This is it, Mom!" Vance laughed out loud, slamming his hand against the steering wheel in pure excitement. "This is my moment! The Chairman is at the hospital right now! If I show up, looking like a devoted employee who rushed straight from your gala to handle a family matter, he'll see my dedication firsthand!"
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"Oh, thank goodness!" Evelyn squealed, adjusting her hair in the visor mirror. "Make sure you tell him how hard you worked tonight despite your wife's dramatic antics! Show him what kind of man you are!"
Vance stepped hard on the accelerator, his luxury sedan speeding down the dark, wet highway toward St. Jude’s Hospital, completely unaware that he was driving straight into an execution chamber.
