Chapter 2

The silence that followed Lucas's words was not the comfortable silence of a paused conversation. It was the silence of a held breath, of fifteen wealthy patrons suddenly aware they were witnessing something they would tell their lawyers about.

Victoria's mind raced, trying to find a path forward. She had spent eleven years at this hotel—eleven years of budgets met, of occupancy records broken, of crises handled with a steely smile. She had dined with the mayor. She had been photographed for the hotel's hundredth anniversary brochure. All of that could not vanish in a single shove.

Could it?

"The champagne," she said, and her voice came out too bright, too fast. "The glass that broke—I'll make sure it's cleaned up. And the chair, we'll repair it, of course. A full refund for the—for the guest's inconvenience—"

"Miss Alvarado," Lucas interrupted, his tone flat, "you pushed the chairman of Meridian Hotels, Resorts & Estates onto the floor in front of our guests. The chair is the least of what needs repair."

Richard shifted in his wheelchair, adjusting the folds of his dust-streaked jacket. He looked at Victoria with a mild, almost curious expression, like a man examining a species of insect he had not encountered before. "You've been the manager here for eleven years," he said. It was not a question.

Victoria swallowed. "Yes. Yes, sir, eleven years this June."

Richard nodded slowly. "And in those eleven years, how many times have you walked past the man who polishes the brass handrails at the main entrance?"