Chương 7
“What?”
“The original reunion contract was booked under the promotional family rate.”
I waited.
“The rate was approved on the assumption that the organizer was not affiliated with ownership.”
Kevin frowned.
“So?”
Thomas looked at me.
“So now that the ownership connection has been disclosed publicly, accounting will require documentation that no preferential discount was authorized by Ms. Sutton.”
A cold irritation moved through me.
“I didn’t authorize anything.”
“I know.”
“Then document it.”
“I already have.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because your mother requested the discount by stating that she had a personal relationship with senior ownership.”
I stared at him.
Kevin stopped moving.
Linda slowly lowered her bread.
Thomas’s expression remained steady.
“She used your name, Mara.”
And somewhere inside the lodge, my mother was making a phone call that suddenly seemed far less likely to be about a declined credit card.
I looked toward the lodge doors.
Thomas did not follow my gaze.
Kevin did.
“You think she knew?”
“I think I need to find out exactly what she said.”
Linda’s face had gone pale in a way I had never seen before.
“Oh, Patricia.”
Joel looked at her.
“You knew something?”
“No.”
“You made a face.”
“I make faces.”
“That was a specific face.”
Linda pressed both hands flat against the table.
“I knew she was trying to get a better rate.”
Davina stared at her.
“You knew?”
“I knew she was negotiating.”
“With Mara’s name?”
“I did not know that part.”
Kevin’s jaw tightened.
“What did she tell you?”
Linda hesitated.
That hesitation answered more than anything.
“Linda.”
“She said she had a connection.”
“What connection?”
“I assumed she meant Mara.”
Kevin leaned back.
“You assumed Mara had a connection to a place nobody knew she owned?”
Linda looked irritated now, which was what happened whenever shame got too close to her.
“I don’t keep a spreadsheet of who knows whom.”
Thomas said quietly, “Mrs. Carter, do you remember how she described the relationship?”
Linda glanced at him.
“Why?”
“Because wording matters.”
“It was months ago.”
I said, “Try.”
She closed her eyes.
“She said something like, ‘My daughter works with the ownership group, so I’m sure they can extend a courtesy.’”
My stomach tightened.
Kevin swore again.
Nobody corrected him.
Thomas’s expression sharpened.
“That is close to the note in the reservation file.”
I looked at him.
“There’s a note?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
He nodded toward Ms. Reyes, who had not gone far after all.
She stepped closer with the tablet.
“I can pull the booking history.”
“Do it.”
My voice sounded more like the version of me that chaired Monday operating calls.
The family noticed.
I noticed them noticing.
For once, I did not care.
Ms. Reyes moved through several screens.
“The original inquiry was submitted eleven weeks ago.”
She looked at Thomas.
“May I read the internal note?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes flicked toward me.
“Guest states daughter has professional relationship with ownership group and has been told courtesy consideration may be available.”
I felt heat rise behind my neck.
“Keep going.”
“Reservation agent advised that promotional rates were fixed but submitted a discretionary review request.”
Thomas added, “The request came to revenue management.”
“Who approved it?”
“Celia Grant.”
I knew Celia.
Director of revenue strategy.
Methodical.
Suspicious of discounts.
She would not have given away six percent because somebody sounded confident on the phone.
“Why?”
Thomas looked toward Ms. Reyes.
She scrolled.
“There’s another note.”
“Read it.”
“Guest called back and stated daughter was directly involved in property acquisition and could confirm relationship if necessary.”
Kevin stared at me.
I felt something inside me go very still.
Davina whispered, “Wow.”
Joel stopped joking.
That was when I knew the situation had crossed into something else.
“Did anyone contact me?”
“No,” Thomas said.
“Why not?”
“The rate variance was within Celia’s authority.”
“How much?”
“Eight percent below package pricing.”
“That’s not huge.”
“No.”
“But she used my name.”
“Yes.”
“Did she say I authorized it?”
Thomas answered carefully.
“Not according to the notes.”
That distinction mattered.
My mother had not forged approval.
She had implied leverage.
There was a difference legally.
There was less difference emotionally.
Kevin pushed his chair back.
“I’m going inside.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“She lied.”
“I know.”
“She used you to get a discount while telling everyone you couldn’t afford to be here.”
“I know.”
His face reddened.
“That’s insane.”
“Kevin.”
“What?”
“Don’t go in there angry.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’ll turn it into a fight about your tone.”
He stared at me.
Then he gave a short, humorless laugh.
“God.”
“What?”
“You really do know her.”
“Yes.”
That took some of the energy out of him.
He sat again, but only halfway, perched on the edge of the chair.
Linda twisted her napkin.
“I don’t think she meant anything by it.”
Four heads turned toward her.
Linda frowned.
“I mean, obviously she meant the discount.”
Joel covered his eyes.
“Mom.”
“I’m saying maybe she thought Mara did know the owners.”
“She did know the owner,” Kevin said.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You’re making it worse.”
“I’m aware.”
She reached for her wine and drank too quickly.
I looked at Thomas.
“Was anything else requested?”
A tiny pause.
My stomach sank.
“Thomas.”
“There were several requests.”
“Such as?”
“Complimentary breakfast upgrade.”
“We already include breakfast.”
“Champagne welcome amenity.”
I looked toward the unopened bottle chilling beside Patricia’s chair.
“That one?”
“Yes.”
Davina put her hand over her mouth.
Thomas continued.
“Late checkout on Sunday.”
“Fine.”
“Preferred dining placement.”
I glanced around at the terrace.
We were seated at the best family table, under the pergola, with a direct mountain view.
Of course we were.
“And?”
“Two spa service credits.”
Linda’s eyes widened.
“Oh, those.”
Everyone looked at her again.
She grimaced.
“I thought they came with the package.”
“They did not,” Thomas said.
I almost admired Patricia’s nerve.
Almost.
“How much total?”
Thomas seemed reluctant to answer in front of everyone.
May you like
I waited.
“Approximately seventeen hundred dollars in discretionary value.”
