Chương 5
“Twenty-eight hundred per night.”
Linda made a choking sound.
Joel stared at Thomas.
“For a sofa?”
“For the residence.”
“Still.”
Davina looked at me.
“You own it.”
“Yes.”
“So just comp it.”
There was no malice in her voice.
That almost made it worse.
She said it the way someone might ask a cousin to pass the salt.
I looked toward her children, who had wandered to the far end of the terrace and were arguing over whose turn it was to use a pair of binoculars mounted near the railing.
“They can have it tonight at no charge.”
Davina smiled.
“Thank you.”
“One night.”
The smile faded a little.
“If rooms open tomorrow, Thomas can relocate you.”
Patricia shook her head.
“Why would they relocate?”
“Because the residence is reserved tomorrow afternoon.”
“For whom?”
“That isn’t relevant.”
“We’re family.”
“The guests who reserved it are also guests.”
My mother stared at me.
“You would make your own family move rooms during a reunion?”
“If the people who booked the residence arrive, yes.”
“That’s unbelievable.”
Thomas stepped in quietly.
“Mrs. Sutton, the incoming guests reserved the residence four months ago.”
Patricia looked at him as though he had betrayed her personally.
“You don’t need to keep defending her.”
Thomas’s face changed for the first time.
Only slightly.
His shoulders settled.
His voice became cooler.
“I’m explaining resort operations.”
“Mara is standing right there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then let her explain herself.”
I almost laughed.
I had spent half my childhood being ordered to explain myself for things that required no explanation.
Why had I wanted to quit piano lessons?
Why had I refused to wear the yellow dress?
Why did I need a summer job when the Suttons were not “the kind of family whose children worked cash registers”?
Why did I insist on majoring in finance instead of something more suitable?
My mother had always treated an explanation as the opening round of negotiation.
“No,” I said.
She blinked.
“No?”
“I’m not explaining why a booked residence belongs to the people who booked it.”
Kevin looked down at the table.
His mouth moved.
I suspected he was hiding another smile, which annoyed me even though I could not have explained why.
Patricia lowered her voice.
“You seem to be enjoying this.”
That accusation found its mark because a small, shameful part of me was.
Not the room problem.
Not Davina’s embarrassment.
Not the children being caught in adult carelessness.
But my mother having to sit still while reality refused to rearrange itself around her felt satisfying in a way I did not admire.
I could have pretended otherwise.
I was too tired.
“A little,” I said.
Kevin laughed outright.
Patricia turned toward him.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
He covered his mouth with one hand.
“That was just the first honest thing anyone’s said for twenty minutes.”
Linda pointed toward me.
“I’ve been honest.”
Joel said, “You told Mara to stay home.”
“I meant generally.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
The young manager looked as though she might prefer a fire alarm.
Thomas rescued her.
“Ms. Reyes, would you please arrange the Willow Residence for Ms. Ellis and her children and place Mr. Carter on the sofa occupancy?”
“Yes, sir.”
Joel raised a finger.
“Can the official record say something more dignified than sofa occupancy?”
“No,” Linda said.
Ms. Reyes almost smiled.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“And arrange transportation to Lake Briar as a backup for tomorrow,” I said.
Davina opened her mouth.
I looked at her.
She closed it.
“Of course,” Ms. Reyes said.
Thomas nodded toward the terrace doors.
“Would you like me to show Ms. Sutton to her suite?”
I looked at Lily.
She had abandoned the beetle and was now pressing both hands to the fountain rim, watching floating leaves spin around the drain.
“Did you upgrade me?”
“Yes.”
“I told you not to.”
“You told us not to upgrade the reunion.”
“Thomas.”
“The owner’s suite required a maintenance inspection before next week’s board visit.”
“That is not the same thing as me needing to sleep there.”
“No.”
His expression remained completely straight.
“It is, however, efficient.”
Kevin looked between us.
“You two argue like coworkers.”
“We are coworkers,” I said.
Thomas corrected me.
“You sign my paychecks.”
“Figuratively.”
“Not always.”
That made Kevin stare at me again.
It was becoming irritating.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
“I’m trying to figure out how much of your life I apparently know nothing about.”
My answer arrived quickly, then stalled behind my teeth.
Quite a lot would have been accurate.
Quite a lot would also have been unfair.
Kevin and I had not been enemies.
We had simply allowed adulthood to make us lazy with each other.
Birthdays.
Holiday texts.
Occasional photographs.
He sent Lily gift cards because he never remembered what seven-year-olds liked.
I sent him coffee beans from places he told me he wanted to visit.
We called each other when something was seriously wrong and almost never when things were fine.
“I could say the same about you,” I said.
He nodded once.
“That’s fair.”
Patricia looked from him to me.
“So everyone is just fine with this?”
Nobody answered.
“With what?” I asked.
“This deception.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“What deception?”
“You let us believe you were struggling.”
“I never said I was struggling.”
“You let me worry about you.”
I actually laughed then.
It escaped before I could stop it.
My mother’s face hardened.
“Don’t.”
“You worried about me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“That is insulting.”
“No, I’m asking.”
Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass.
“I am your mother.”
“That isn’t an example.”
“Mara.”
“Did you worry when I started Meridian Crest?”
“I didn’t know you started it.”
“Exactly.”
“You never told me.”
“I told you I was starting a hospitality investment company.”
Patricia stared at me.
“When?”
“Thanksgiving at Linda’s house.”
Linda’s eyes widened.
May you like
“Oh.”
Everyone turned to her.
