Chapter 7 - The Mistress Walked Into My BakeryBrittany Lawson looked nothing like the laughing woman I'd seen at the salon.
Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail.
Her eyes were swollen.
And the diamond engagement ring she'd proudly shown off less than forty-eight hours earlier was missing.
She stood inside my bakery wearing a gray sweatshirt, ripped jeans, and the expression of a woman who had just discovered she'd been sleeping beside a stranger.
Julia spotted her first.
"Becca," she whispered, "that's her."
I was standing behind the counter arranging cinnamon rolls.
I looked up.
Brittany met my eyes.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then she walked toward me.
"Rebecca?"
I set down the tray.
"Yes."
She swallowed.
"I'm Brittany."
"I know."
Her face flushed.
"Can we talk?"
Julia stepped closer.
"Maybe this isn't the place."
I raised my hand.
"It's okay."
Brittany looked around.
The bakery was busy.
Two nurses were choosing pastries.
An elderly couple sat near the window.
A little boy was begging his father for a chocolate cupcake.
For one wild moment, I wanted to tell everyone who she was.
I wanted to point at her and announce that this woman had been planning to replace me in my daughter's life.
But I thought of Sadie.
I thought of how quickly gossip traveled through Knoxville.
And I remembered my grandmother's favorite saying.
Never make a scene that your children will have to clean up.
"Come into the office," I said.
Brittany followed me.
Julia stayed nearby.
I left the office door slightly open.
Brittany sat in the chair opposite my desk.
Her hands were trembling.
"I'm sorry," she began.
I leaned back.
"For what?"
She blinked.
"For everything."
"That's a fairly large category."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I know."
I didn't comfort her.
I didn't insult her either.
I simply waited.
She looked down at her hands.
"Mike told me you were separated."
I nodded.
"Your sister mentioned that."
Her head snapped up.
"Nicole called you?"
"Yes."
Brittany closed her eyes.
"Oh, God."
"She was worried."
"She's always trying to save people."
"Apparently somebody needed saving."
Brittany flinched.
I felt no satisfaction.
Only exhaustion.
Finally, she said, "I believed him."
"Even when you knew he was still living with me?"
"He told me it was because of Sadie."
"And when you saw photographs of us together?"
"He said you were pretending."
I studied her.
"Did you really believe that?"
She began crying.
"At first."
I remained silent.
"Then I started noticing things," she continued. "He couldn't answer basic questions. He never let me call him at night. He always had a reason he couldn't spend holidays with me."
I thought about last Christmas.
Mike had spent the entire day building Sadie's new dollhouse.
That evening, he'd gone outside to take a call.
He'd said it was the station.
I wondered whether Brittany had been waiting on the other end.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
She wiped her face.
"Because he lied about something bigger."
My heartbeat quickened.
"What?"
"The money."
I sat forward.
Brittany took a folded paper from her purse.
"He told me you were selling your bakery building."
I stared at her.
"He said you wanted to retire and move somewhere warmer. He said the proceeds would help us start over."
"Us?"
She nodded miserably.
"Mike said you were being compensated through other property, and that the separation agreement had already been settled."
I glanced at the paper.
It was a proposed property transaction.
My grandmother's building.
My name.
Mike's name.
And a company I'd never heard of.
Blue Ridge Family Holdings LLC.
"What's this company?" I asked.
Brittany stared at the floor.
"Mine."
I looked up sharply.
"What?"
"I registered it in August."
"Why?"
"Mike said we needed a company to hold the property temporarily while everything was transferred."
My mouth went dry.
"So you were planning to buy my bakery?"
She shook her head.
"No. I thought I was helping him restructure assets during the divorce."
I stared at her.
"With money from our joint account?"
She went completely still.
"What?"
"Sixty-eight thousand dollars."
Her face drained of color.
"Mike said that was an advance on his share of the marital assets."
"It wasn't."
She covered her mouth.
I watched the truth settle over her.
Her glamorous new future was built on money taken without my knowledge and documents I hadn't signed.
"What happened to the money?" I asked.
She slowly lowered her hands.
"Some of it is still in the company account."
"How much?"
"About forty-one thousand."
"And the rest?"
Her voice became barely audible.
"Mike used some to pay his personal debts. He told me the rest covered legal and moving expenses."
I felt anger rise through my chest.
"Did you know about the parenting agreement?"
She nodded weakly.
"He showed it to me."
"Did you know my signature was forged?"
"No."
"Did you know he planned to tell Sadie I didn't want her?"
Brittany broke down.
"I'm sorry."
I let her cry.
Then I asked the question that mattered most.
"Do you have proof?"
She looked up.
"Proof of what?"
"Everything."
Her expression changed.
"I have messages."
"How many?"
"Months of them."
"Financial records?"
"Some."
"Emails?"
"Yes."
I took a breath.
"Then don't delete anything. Hannah can explain how to preserve and provide the records lawfully."
Brittany nodded.
Then she pulled something else from her purse.
A small black velvet box.
Inside was the engagement ring.
"I gave it back," she said.
I stared at the diamond.
"Why bring it here?"
"Because I found out where he got the money."
I didn't speak.
She opened her banking app and showed me a transaction receipt.
The ring had cost fourteen thousand eight hundred dollars.
The payment appeared to have come from an account linked to our household finances.
I felt physically sick.
Fourteen thousand eight hundred dollars.
The same month Mike had argued that we couldn't afford a family vacation.
The same month I'd taken extra wedding cake orders to cover Sadie's orthodontist bill.
The same month he'd complained that I worried too much about money.
Brittany placed the box on the desk.
"I don't want it."
"Neither do I."
We stared at it.
Then Brittany whispered, "There's something else about the house."
I rubbed my forehead.
"What now?"
"He said he was going to make sure you couldn't afford the mortgage."
I looked up.
"What?"
"He told me you'd eventually agree to the sale because you'd have no choice."
I stared at her.
"How?"
Brittany swallowed.
"He said he'd already arranged for certain payments to stop."
A cold feeling spread through my body.
"What payments?"
She hesitated.
"The mortgage. Insurance. Some utilities."
I grabbed my phone.
Our mortgage had always been paid automatically.
Mike had insisted on handling it after our account changes.
I opened the lender's website and tried to sign in.
Password changed.
Again.
I called the customer service number printed on an old statement.
After verifying my identity, I asked about our account.
The representative's answer made my stomach drop.
Two payments were overdue.
A third would soon be due.
I felt the room spin.
"Has anyone contacted us about this?"
The woman said notices had been sent electronically to the address on file.
Mike's email.
Not mine.
I ended the call.
Brittany was staring at me.
"What did they say?"
I could barely speak.
"He stopped paying the mortgage."
Her face crumpled.
"Oh, God."
I looked toward the photograph of Grandma Rosie above my desk.
Mike had promised to help protect the family I'd worked so hard to build.
Instead, he'd been quietly creating the crisis he planned to blame on me.
A phone rang outside.
Julia answered it.
I heard her voice change.
"Excuse me?"
Then footsteps.
She appeared in the doorway.
"Becca, there's a reporter on the phone."
I blinked.
"A reporter?"
Julia nodded.
"From a local news website."
My stomach tightened.
"What do they want?"
"They said Mike gave them a statement."
I stared at her.
Julia looked sick.
"They're asking whether it's true you've been accused of misusing funds from a firefighter charity."
For a moment, the room went completely silent.
Then I understood.
The Facebook post hadn't been enough.
Mike was escalating.
He wasn't satisfied with making people question me as a wife and mother.
Now he was going after my reputation as a business owner.
I rose slowly.
Brittany stood too.
"Rebecca, I swear I didn't know about this."
I looked at her.
For the first time, I believed her.
Not because she was innocent.
She wasn't.
But because the expression on her face matched the one I'd worn in the salon.
The expression of a woman realizing the man she trusted had turned her into a weapon.
"Then help me prove it," I said.
Brittany nodded.
"I will."
I walked toward the door.
And behind me, Brittany said something that made me stop.
"Rebecca?"
I turned.
"Mike told me one more thing."
I waited.
She took a shaking breath.
"He said that if the charity story didn't work, he had something from Sadie's school that would."
My heart seemed to stop.
"What something?"
May you like
Brittany's eyes filled with tears.
"He said he'd make sure everyone believed your own daughter was afraid of you."
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