Chapter 2 - The First Rescue
Harrison completed the Hartwell project and received enough attention to keep his studio alive.
He worked hard, and I was proud of him.
That made the next decision easy.
When Aurelia Hospitality needed an architectural team to renovate three boutique hotels, I recommended Harrison’s firm.
The executive committee reviewed his work and agreed he was qualified. I did not force them to hire him. I simply made sure his proposal reached the right desk.
Harrison returned home carrying a bottle of champagne.
“We got the Aurelia contract!”
I pretended not to recognize the company name.
“Is that a big client?”
“Massive. They invest in everything. Hotels, property, technology. No one seems to know who actually owns them.”
He poured two glasses.
“This could change my life.”
Our life changed quickly.
The contract led to other projects. Companies connected to Aurelia saw Harrison’s designs and invited him to bid. Some chose him because he was talented. Others trusted the recommendation that quietly followed his name through Aurelia’s network.
Within three years, his studio became Wescott Design Group.
He hired thirty employees and moved into a renovated office tower.
The tower belonged to Aurelia.
Harrison never asked who owned it.
Patricia decided his success proved she had always been right about him.
She began referring to the Wescotts as a “legacy family,” although their legacy consisted mainly of unpaid loans and an old surname.
Harrison’s late father had inherited several properties but sold nearly all of them before his death. Patricia still lived as though the fortune remained.
She hosted charity lunches she could not afford. She joined clubs using borrowed money. She purchased designer clothing, then delayed paying the bills until collection notices arrived.
Harrison began covering her expenses.
At first, he used his salary.
Then he asked whether we could help her more regularly.
“She’s alone,” he said. “Dad left her with a mess.”
“How much does she need?”
“Just a few thousand a month.”
A few thousand became eight thousand.
Then twelve.
Then Patricia found a mansion she claimed was necessary for entertaining Harrison’s clients.
The property cost nearly four million dollars.
“We cannot buy my mother a mansion,” Harrison told me. “But an investment company is willing to purchase it and offer her a long-term lease.”
“What company?”
He showed me the paperwork.
Aurelia Residential Holdings.
I had approved the arrangement two days earlier.
The rent was heavily reduced because Harrison had asked me for help without knowing he was asking me.
He had come home after Patricia’s mortgage application failed and said, “I wish I knew someone who could structure something temporary.”
I contacted Aurelia’s property director.
Temporary became permanent.
Patricia moved into the mansion and told her friends Harrison had bought it for her.
I said nothing.
Six months later, she asked for a credit card for household purchases.
Harrison added her as an authorized user to one of our accounts.
That account was paid by a consulting entity owned by Aurelia.
The card had a high limit because I used it for travel and business expenses. I told Harrison it should be restricted to home maintenance, medical costs, and real emergencies.
He agreed.
Patricia began with groceries and utility bills.
Then came restaurant dinners.
Designer handbags.
Spa weekends.
Private drivers.
A twelve-thousand-dollar sculpture she claimed improved the mansion’s entrance.
When I questioned the expenses, Harrison always had an explanation.
“She needs to maintain relationships.”
“She is helping my business.”
“She cannot entertain clients in cheap places.”
“People expect a certain standard from our family now.”
Our family.
The phrase appeared more frequently as his company grew.
Yet the higher Harrison climbed, the further I seemed to fall in his eyes.
He stopped describing me as a consultant. At events, he introduced me as his wife and nothing more.
When someone asked about my work, Patricia answered for me.
“Claire has a few small projects, but Harrison is the real businessperson in the family.”
Sometimes Harrison corrected her.
Eventually, he only smiled.
I remained involved with Aurelia, often working after Emma went to sleep. I attended board meetings remotely, reviewed acquisitions from my private study, and traveled under the explanation that I was consulting.
Aurelia’s value rose from forty million dollars to more than one hundred and twenty million.
Harrison believed my income was modest.
I let him believe it because the company was protected and because I still remembered the man who had once loved simple dinners and honest work.
I told myself that success had merely distracted him.
I told myself that Patricia’s influence was temporary.
May you like
I told myself many things because admitting the truth would have required me to accept that my generosity was not helping my marriage.
It was teaching Harrison that he could receive endlessly without asking who was paying.
