I watched Vanessa’s face, and for the first time since I met her, the act slipped.
Jason noticed it too.
“What does he mean?” he asked.
Mark’s voice remained steady. “There was a pending wire request from the wedding account to an interior design firm in Beverly Hills. Forty-six thousand dollars. Scheduled for Monday.”
Jason frowned. “Interior design? For what?”
Vanessa opened her mouth, but no words came out.
I looked at her. “For the house we were helping you buy?”
Jason turned to her. “Vanessa?”
She crossed her arms. “It was going to be our home.”
“We hadn’t even closed,” he said.
“I was planning ahead.”
Mark continued, “The request was submitted using Jason’s login credentials, but the IP address traces back to Vanessa’s laptop.”
The room fell silent.
Linda stood slowly. “Jason, did you approve that?”
Jason looked devastated. “No.”
Vanessa’s voice sharpened. “It was for us. Why is everyone acting like I stole something?”
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