Chapter 5

The coffee was bitter and strong, and Vivian drank it in small careful sips while she waited in Manager Ortiz's glass-walled office, watching the corridor like a hawk watches a field.

Outside, the ballroom had fallen into a strange, muted silence. The band was gone. The DJ had been scheduled for later, but the band's contract had included the midnight hour, and without them the music had simply stopped. She could picture the scene through the door's narrow windows: guests standing by empty glasses, looking around, frowning at each other as the bar staff placed closed signs over the ice buckets.

Fifteen minutes passed.

Then the ballroom doors opened, and Sonia Beckwith stormed down the corridor.

Her ivory gown swished as she walked, the pearl necklace bouncing with each step. Up close, her makeup was flawless, but her eyes were wild, scanning the corridor like a predator looking for prey. She saw the light in the glass-walled office, she saw Vivian sitting in the chair, and her steps did not slow.

The office door slammed open.

"You," Sonia said, her voice sharp and shaking.

"Good evening, Sonia," Vivian said, and took another sip of coffee.

"What did you do?" Sonia demanded. "The band is gone. The bar is empty. Lawrence said they told him the overtime was canceled." She took a step into the office, white-knuckled hands gripping the hem of her dress. "You did this."

"I did," Vivian agreed.

"You can't do this to me!" Sonia's voice cracked, high and reedy. "This is my wedding day! My night! You already ruined the ceremony with your-" she gestured at Vivian's face, at her dress, at everything, "your presence. You don't get to ruin this too."

"Ruined the ceremony," Vivian said slowly, and set down her coffee cup. "Do you mean the part of the ceremony where I was the one who wrote the check for the ballroom?"

"You were the one who showed up to my wedding and made it about yourself!"

Vivian stood up, slow and steady, smoothing down the front of her navy dress.

"I showed up to the wedding I paid for," she said quietly. "I sat at the head table next to the bride. And the bride slapped me across the face in front of two hundred guests."

Sonia's mouth opened and closed.

"Tell me," Vivian said, taking a step closer, "what exactly did I do to deserve that?"

The question hung in the air.

Sonia's face was shifting through expressions — anger, confusion, something that looked almost like panic. She looked past Vivian at Manager Ortiz, who stood behind his desk with his hands folded, the folder of signed forms laid flat on the desk where she could see it.

"Where is Neil?" Sonia demanded, her voice rising again. "He knows about this, doesn't he? He's a part of this?"

"No," Vivian said honestly. "He doesn't know anything about what I've done tonight."