Chapter 4: The Photograph

Nathan read the contractor’s message again.

Saw your picture with Victoria Bennett. Any chance you could put me in touch with her development team?

It was the third request that morning. The first had come from a man Nathan had not spoken to in four years. The second had been less polite: a customer asking whether Nathan’s new “connections” meant he no longer needed ordinary jobs.

He set his phone facedown on the workbench.

Across the shop, his apprentice, Luis, fitted a clamp to a cabinet frame. “Something wrong?”

“People have discovered I attended a wedding.”

Luis glanced at the photograph on Nathan’s screen. “That’s some wedding.”

The picture itself was harmless. Victoria’s hand rested on Nathan’s shoulder as they danced beneath the chandeliers. The newsletter had identified her as the CEO of Bennett Hospitality Group and him as a local craftsman.

The comments had supplied everything else.

Smart way to land a hotel contract.

Bet his shop’s about to get a renovation job.

One woman had written that Victoria looked happy. Nathan had almost thanked her before closing the page.

His phone rang. The caller was a contractor who regularly referred restoration jobs to Cole Woodcraft.

“Nathan,” the man said. “I wanted to check on the Mercer Street estimate. The owners saw that article.”

“The estimate stands.”

“They were wondering if your rates might change.”

“Why would they?”

A pause. “They thought you might be moving into larger projects.”

Nathan looked at the half-built cabinet in front of him. He had spent two mornings measuring the Mercer house so its new doors would sit properly in crooked frames.

“I’m finishing the work I agreed to do,” he said.

“I’ll tell them.”

Nathan ended the call. Luis kept his eyes on the clamp.

By lunchtime, Victoria had called twice. Nathan had answered neither call because he could not decide what to say. When her third call came, he stepped outside.

“I saw your messages,” she said. “I didn’t know about the photograph.”

“I believe you.”

“My communications team can contact the newsletter. They can clarify that you’ve never worked for Bennett.”

“They don’t need to.”

“The comments are making claims about your business.”

“The comments aren’t why my customers are calling.”

“Then tell me what is.”

Nathan watched a delivery truck inch through the alley. “They’re asking whether I’m still taking the jobs I gave them estimates for last week. People I’ve worked with for years.”

Victoria was quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you didn’t cause it.”

“I can still help.”

“I need to get back inside. We’ll talk later.”

He hung up before she could answer. It was an ugly way to end the call, and he knew it.

At three, Emma’s school called.

Emma had shoved a boy in the hallway. She had not hurt him, but she had refused to apologize. Nathan left Luis in charge and drove to the school.

The assistant principal explained that the boy had shown several students the photograph. He had said Emma’s father was dating Victoria to get money for his shop.

Emma sat rigidly beside Nathan, her hands tucked under her arms.

“What happened next?” Nathan asked her.

“He said Mom’s old truck was probably going to get replaced now.”

Nathan’s stomach tightened. Laura’s truck had been sold years earlier, but Emma remembered it.

“I told him to stop,” she said. “He didn’t.”

“You can tell someone to stop without pushing him.”

“He knew about Mom.” Her voice cracked. “He said it anyway.”

Nathan spoke with the principal, then took Emma home. In the truck, she stared out the window until they reached a red light.

“Is Victoria rich?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you seeing her because she’s rich?”

Nathan turned toward her. “No.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. Emma leaned against it for a moment, then sat up when the light changed.

Victoria arrived at the workshop near closing time. She had called ahead; Nathan had told her to come. Luis and the others were gone, but the place still smelled of sawdust and fresh glue.

“How is Emma?” Victoria asked.

“At home with my mother. She’s upset.”

“I’m sorry they brought her into this.”

Nathan set a cleaned chisel in its rack. “So am I.”

“I spoke with my team. They’ve drafted a short statement saying your shop has no Bennett contracts and has never received a referral from me.”

“You had them draft it after I asked you not to?”

“I asked what our options were. I haven’t released anything.”

Nathan pulled a rag across the bench. “Your statement makes me look like I needed your company to defend my work.”

“That isn’t what it says.”

“It’s what people will hear.”

Victoria put her bag down. “What would you like me to do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“That I can understand. You didn’t need to avoid my calls all morning.”

He stopped wiping the bench. She was right.

“I should have answered,” he said.

“I know the photograph is affecting your business. I’m asking you to let me understand how.”

Nathan picked up a cabinet door and stood it against the wall. “For twenty years, people called this shop because we did good work. Today they called to ask about you.”

“They’ll see your work when you finish the jobs.”

“Some of them are wondering whether to give me those jobs.”

Victoria drew a breath. “I believe you. Let me ask them to correct the caption, at least.”

“The caption is accurate.”

“The implication in the comments isn’t.”

“And how does your office replying change their minds?”

She had no ready answer. Nathan could see that she was trying to find one.

Victoria took her bag from the bench. “I’ll leave the statement alone.”

“I didn’t ask you to leave.”

“No. But we’re both angry, and Emma needs you tonight.” She met his eyes. “I’d like you to call me after she’s asleep.”

“I will.”

He meant it. Still, after Victoria left, Nathan stood alone in the workshop and looked at his phone for a long time. A new message waited from the Mercer Street customer.

We’d like to pause the cabinet work until we’ve had another conversation.