Chương 6
By nine the next morning, the video had been viewed 184,000 times.
Jenna had not posted it.
A client had.
She had been sitting under the heating lamp with the upside-down magazine.
Her name was Carla Jennings, and despite appearing absorbed in a feature about spring hairstyles, she had recorded thirty-seven seconds through the salon window.
The angle was poor.
The audio was worse.
But Madison’s arm lifting the cup was clear.
Adrian’s stillness afterward was clearer.
Evelyn running toward him was unmistakable.
The video ended before most of the conversation.
The caption was six words.
SHE THOUGHT HE WAS HOMELESS.
That part was not established anywhere in the footage.
It did not matter.
By noon, strangers had decided nearly everything.
Some said Madison had assaulted a disabled veteran.
Adrian had never served in the military.
Some said he was secretly a billionaire.
He was not.
One account said Luxe Hair Studio had instructed employees to spray homeless people with water.
Nobody had.
Another claimed Adrian had bought the building that morning and immediately evicted the salon.
He had bought it six weeks earlier and had done no such thing.
A short clip removed Evelyn entirely and added dramatic music.
Another enlarged Madison’s face and froze it beside the words WHEN KAREN PICKS THE WRONG GUY.
Adrian watched exactly two of them.
Then he put his phone facedown.
Daniel Pike sat across the conference table.
“You need to say something.”
Adrian looked at the stack of lease documents between them.
“No.”
Daniel removed his glasses.
“You have to stop saying no as if it is a strategy.”
“It’s working so far.”
“The story is spreading.”
“Stories do that.”
“Our office has received sixty-three calls.”
“How many about rent?”
“None.”
“Then they’re not urgent.”
Daniel stared at him.
Adrian opened the Luxe lease.
Daniel closed it.
“Pay attention.”
“I am.”
“You are being described online as a homeless disabled veteran billionaire.”
“That is an impressive career.”
“This is not funny.”
“Nothing you say is funny. Somebody has to help.”
Daniel pushed his phone across the table.
“Reed Hospitality issued a statement.”
Adrian did not pick it up.
“Madison’s husband’s company?”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t work there.”
“They would like people to remember that.”
“What does the statement say?”
Daniel read.
“‘The private actions shown in an online video do not reflect the values, employees, or operations of Reed Hospitality Group. We have no involvement in the incident and no further comment.’”
“Reasonable.”
“Her husband has removed her from photographs on his public account.”
“That seems less reasonable.”
“He’s protecting the company.”
“He’s protecting himself.”
Daniel sat back.
“Same thing in some families.”
Adrian looked at the lease.
“Have you reviewed the complaints?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Two involved Luxe indirectly.”
“Indirectly how?”
“The delivery driver complaint was real. The sidewalk complaint was from a man named Terrence Bell. He said someone from the salon asked security to make him move.”
“Who?”
“He didn’t know.”
“Did security move him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He was waiting for a rideshare.”
Adrian looked up.
“In front of Luxe?”
“Near it.”
“And the third complaint?”
“Different tenant. Restaurant upstairs.”
“So my dramatic undercover investigation discovered exactly what the complaint file already told us.”
Daniel rubbed his chin.
“That would be one interpretation.”
Adrian looked at him.
“What’s another?”
“That your dramatic undercover investigation made the property famous.”
“I wasn’t undercover.”
“You looked like you had escaped a demolition site.”
“I was wearing clothes.”
“Barely.”
Adrian reopened the lease.
Daniel did not stop him this time.
“What do you want to do with Luxe?”
“Renew.”
Daniel’s head lifted.
“Already?”
“I wanted to renew yesterday.”
“Yesterday was before the video.”
“Why should the video change their rent?”
“It changes risk.”
“Whose?”
“Ours. Theirs. Everyone’s.”
“Explain.”
Daniel pushed back from the table.
“If we renew without addressing the incident, people will say we tolerated it.”
“If we terminate, people will say we punished thirty-two employees for something a client did.”
“Yes.”
“So both options can be made stupid online.”
“Most things can.”
Adrian looked at the lease again.
“Then we should make the decision offline.”
Daniel studied him.
“You really aren’t going after her?”
“Madison?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“You could file a complaint.”
“I could.”
“You could sue.”
“I could probably pay several lawyers to argue about whether I should.”
“You could release the security video.”
“So could you, if I were foolish enough to let you.”
Daniel sighed.
“She embarrassed you.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not angry?”
Adrian looked at him.
“I’m very angry.”
Daniel waited.
“That’s why I don’t want to decide anything about her today.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
The irritation left it.
“Okay.”
Adrian turned a page.
“Call Evelyn. Tell her we’ll meet Thursday.”
“To renew?”
“To talk.”
“That will terrify her.”
“She owns a salon. She survives women with wedding parties. She’ll be fine.”
Daniel stood.
At the door he stopped.
“Adrian.”
“What?”
“You know you can be angry without becoming stupid.”
Adrian looked at him.
“That sounded almost supportive.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
The door closed.
Adrian remained alone in the conference room.
For several minutes he read the same paragraph without absorbing it.
Then he took his phone out again.
There was a message from an unknown number.
Mr. Cole, this is Ashley Monroe. I was outside yesterday. I’m sorry to contact you directly. I got your number from Evelyn, which she probably should not have given me. I need to tell you something about what happened before the video started.
Adrian stared at it.
He considered not answering.
Then another message appeared.
Madison is saying you threatened her before she poured the water.
He typed slowly.
Did I?
Three dots appeared.
No.
He waited.
Then:
But Brooke is scared and might say she doesn’t remember.
Adrian put the phone down.
Ten seconds later, it rang.
Ashley.
He answered.
“Hello.”
She seemed startled that he had.
“Mr. Cole?”
“Yes.”
“This is Ashley Monroe.”
“I gathered.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You said.”
May you like
“No. I mean about yesterday.”
Adrian looked through the conference-room window at the gray afternoon.
