Chương 8
“And there will be further losses.”
“Probably.”
“What does Arthur recommend?”
Miriam’s expression became still. “Arthur has called a special board vote for Monday morning.”
“He’s suspended from the property.”
“He can convene remotely. He intends to move for your removal as chief executive.”
Lily placed a wooden block carefully on top of another.
Celeste felt no surprise. Only fatigue.
“Does he have the votes?”
“Two certain. Two leaning. Helen is undecided.”
“There are seven directors.”
“You, Arthur, Helen, me, and three outside members. You cannot vote on your own employment under the bylaws.”
“Can Arthur vote after disclosing information to Adrian?”
“Unless the board formally finds misconduct.”
“Will they?”
“Not before Monday.”
Celeste closed the folder.
Miriam said, “He believes Adrian will restore the original financing if you step down and issue an apology.”
“And you?”
“I believe Adrian may restore it long enough to gain control.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Miriam took off her glasses. Without them, she looked older and less protected.
“I spent twenty-six years working for this hotel,” she said. “Daniel promoted me when no other luxury property in the city had a woman running finance. He also hid cash problems from me because he was ashamed. Both things are true.”
Celeste waited.
“I don’t want eight hundred people to lose jobs because you and Adrian cannot stand each other.”
“He knocked down my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You make it sound personal.”
“It is personal. That doesn’t make it small.”
Lily looked up from the floor. “I can hear you.”
Miriam’s face softened. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Lily said. “Mom says people talk loud when they’re pretending not to fight.”
Celeste glanced at her.
“That is not a quote I expected repeated.”
Miriam almost smiled, then returned her attention to the folders.
“If Arthur removes you,” she said, “the board can accept Voss’s terms. You would remain majority beneficiary of the trust but lose operational control.”
“Would you support that?”
“I haven’t decided.”
The answer hurt more than Celeste expected.
Miriam gathered her glasses but did not put them on.
“I need you to show me this isn’t only about winning,” she said. “Daniel made every disagreement into a test of loyalty. The hotel paid for that. So did you.”
After she left, Celeste stood at the window while Lily continued building.
The river reflected red aircraft lights from the towers. Traffic moved along Wacker Drive in pale streams. Somewhere below, a siren approached, passed, and dissolved.
“Did Dad hide money?” Lily asked.
Celeste turned.
“Why would you ask that?”
“You said cash problems.”
“You were listening.”
“You said I could hear you.”
Celeste sat on the floor beside the unfinished block hotel.
“Dad didn’t hide money,” she said. “He hid that we didn’t have enough.”
“Why?”
“He was embarrassed.”
“Because the hotel costs too much?”
“Sometimes.”
Lily picked up a blue block. “Can we sell it?”
“The hotel?”
“Yeah.”
The word struck Celeste with disproportionate force.
“This is our home.”
“We could have a house.”
“You like living here.”
“I like room service.”
“That is not usually included with houses.”
“We could make sandwiches.”
Celeste looked at her daughter’s earnest face.
“What would you want?” she asked.
“A yard. But not a big one. Big yards have more bugs.”
“Practical.”
“And a room where nobody gets married under us.”
The apartment’s floor vibrated faintly during ballroom receptions. Lily had fallen asleep to bass lines, applause, and wedding speeches most of her life.
“Would you miss the hotel?”
“Yes.”
“What part?”
“The laundry carts. And Mr. Bell. And the tiny jam jars.”
“Anything else?”
Lily considered. “You.”
“I would come with you.”
“I know. But you’re different when you’re downstairs.”
Celeste did not ask how.
Children could see truths without knowing where to put them.
On Saturday morning, Celeste visited the employee cafeteria in the north annex.
The room had beige tile, fluorescent lights, and a coffee machine that produced a liquid even Daniel had refused to defend. At ten thirty, breakfast staff overlapped with lunch preparation. Word of the possible sale had spread.
Conversations stopped when Celeste entered.
She poured coffee into a paper cup and tasted it.
“It remains terrible,” she said.
A few people laughed.
No one relaxed.
The executive housekeeper, Sandra Patel, crossed her arms. “Are we losing this building?”
“We may sell the annex and lease back the spaces we need.”
“For how long?”
“Twenty years under the current proposal.”
“What happens after twenty?”
“I don’t know.”
A line cook near the vending machines said, “What happens next month?”
“We are negotiating financing.”
“With the man from the video?”
“Not if I remain chief executive.”
Silence followed.
Celeste could have made a speech. She could have promised that principles and payroll would somehow arrive together. She had heard executives do this at conferences, their voices warm with money that was not personally at risk.
Instead, she set down the coffee.
“The board may remove me Monday,” she said. “If that happens, Voss Meridian may fund the hotel. If I remain, we will pursue a smaller loan, sell the annex to the Calder Foundation, and pledge family assets. That plan still has a gap.”
“How big?” Sandra asked.
“About three million, possibly more if bookings fall.”
“And if you don’t fill it?”
“We may default.”
A dishwasher named Leon raised his hand as though they were in school. “Can they close us right away?”
“No. But a default can lead to receivership or sale. It would create uncertainty for contracts and jobs.”
“Uncertainty means layoffs,” someone said.
“It can.”
Sandra studied her. “Why are you telling us this before the board vote?”
“Because Arthur has been asking department heads to sign a letter supporting my removal.”
Several faces changed.
Celeste continued. “You have the right to support him. No one will be punished for signing or refusing. But you should know the facts.”
May you like
“Did Arthur tell Voss about the Calder deal?” Sandra asked.
“He disclosed that the gala program had changed and that Mrs. Calder might announce something affecting the capital structure.”
