Chapter 5 - The Cheap Motel
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The neon sign outside the Starlight Inn flickered with a depressing, dull pink glow.
Grant carried two heavy suitcases up the concrete stairs to room 214. Brooke walked behind him, complaining loudly about the smell of stale smoke and damp carpet.
"I am not sleeping on those sheets," Brooke whined, dropping her designer handbag onto the small, laminate table. "Grant, fix this. Call one of your friends. We cannot stay here."
"Call them with what?" Grant snapped, throwing the suitcases onto the sagging bed. "My corporate cards are declined. My personal accounts are frozen. The only reason we have this room is because I had two hundred dollars in cash in my wallet!"
Diane sat delicately on the edge of the vinyl armchair, refusing to take off her coat.
"She is throwing a tantrum," Diane stated, waving her hand dismissively. "Morgan is a child playing with her grandfather's money. Give her a few days to cool off, Grant. Go back, bring her some flowers, and apologize."
Grant stared at his mother. The sheer, blinding arrogance was almost impossible to comprehend.
"She isn't throwing a tantrum, Mom," Grant said, his voice deathly quiet. He pulled the thick folder from his jacket and slammed it onto the cheap table. "She knows you stole from me. She knows you forged vendor invoices to funnel money into your offshore accounts. She has the receipts!"
Diane didn't flinch. "We were protecting our future, Grant. You married a woman who clearly doesn't respect us. We had to ensure we weren't left destitute."
"You stole from my company!" Grant roared.
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"It was her money anyway!" Brooke yelled back. "She’s loaded, Grant! She let you stress over bankruptcy while she sat on millions. She lied to you!"
Grant sank onto the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. He was trapped in a cheap motel with two thieves, and the only woman who had ever truly believed in him was currently sitting in a mansion he could no longer enter.
