CHAPTER 2: The Diamond in Seat Four

Brooke wanted Claire to see the ring.
She turned her glass, adjusted her hair, and let the cabin lights catch the diamond whenever Claire passed. It was not the largest stone in the jet, but it was the most vulgar because of where it sat.
Ryan pretended not to notice. That was his first mistake. Men like Ryan believed betrayal became harmless if it was performed with enough restraint.
Claire placed her handbag on the empty seat across from him and remained standing. She wore a slate-blue suit, her blonde hair pinned neatly at the nape of her neck, her face calm enough to make the passengers nervous.
The board members had expected a quiet wife. They had not prepared for a woman who looked as if she had arrived to read a verdict.
Brooke smiled. "We saved you a seat near the back. Ryan thought you might want privacy."
Claire looked at the seat Brooke indicated, then at Ryan.
"Privacy," she said, "is what guilty people ask for after they run out of witnesses."
The champagne bubbles went silent in several glasses at once.