Chapter 2

Now I finally understood the whole thing.

Back when Saul first came to me, he'd been fishing around about invoices, hinting at something. And when I told him we could only issue receipts for the actual amount, he'd looked reluctant. But he knew my hotel was the best in the city, so he didn't want to fall out with me over it.

That was probably why he kept stalling and never signed the contract.

Now he'd sent Agnes to deal with me. First, so her brother could pocket the money. Second, because they were after something else entirely.

"If you think your brother's place is better, then give it to him. We'll cancel the contract." I hung up on Saul and looked calmly at Agnes.

"You—you said it yourself!" Agnes jabbed a finger right at the tip of my nose. "Cancel it, then! Think you're something special just because you run a hotel?"

At her shouting, every staff member in the lobby stopped what they were doing, dozens of pairs of eyes swinging toward me.

I looked at that flushed red face of hers, and I smiled.

"Then we cancel." I slapped the run-of-show sheet down on the table. "We're family, so I won't charge you the cancellation fee. Go find someone else for your gala."

Agnes froze, like she hadn't expected me to agree so readily. But she'd gotten what she came for, so she said nothing, just gave a cold snort, turned, and walked off, muttering as she went, "Big fancy hotel, who needs it. The way you do business, you'll be out of business before long!"

Watching her go, I just found it funny. I'd have no trouble renting out the space. But some people were about to have a very bad time.

Because I knew that hotel her brother, Stanley Whitney, ran.

It wasn't small, either. Top five in the city, easily.

The problem was, his place had built its name on weddings and birthday banquets. The equipment looked impressive, but it couldn't come close to handling the scale and spectacle of a corporate gala.

For starters, the rising stage was built for a bride's grand entrance, rated for maybe two hundred pounds. And that lighting board of his went unstable and cut out the moment you ran more than twenty groups of lights.

Worst of all, his so-called professional team was really just the wedding-and-funeral outfit the hotel worked with. They had zero experience running a corporate gala.

A wedding banquet just needs to look festive. A corporate gala runs on a full, professional program, and for a company like Saul's, with thousands of people, there was no way they could pull it off.

I'd thought about giving Saul a heads-up. But the moment I pictured that smug, arrogant look on Agnes's face, I dropped the idea.

The two of them had made it clear they were running a scam on me. Why go out of my way to be the unwelcome one?

Right then my phone rang. The caller ID said it was my old classmate, Leo Perry.

I picked up.

"Mase, I hear your hotel's got the weekend free?" Leo and I went way back, and this time he got straight to it, skipping the pleasantries entirely.

I paused. "You've got some sharp ears. I cancel one minute, you know about it the next?"

"Heh." He laughed, pretty pleased with himself on the other end. "Surprised? Didn't see that coming?"

"I'll be straight with you. My cousin Horace Lawrence is on your scaffolding crew, right? He just told me somebody left you hanging, so I gave you a call."

I glanced over at Horace, up on the scaffolding, and he grinned at me.

Leo kept going. "Mase, listen, I'm going out of my mind here. Our annual influencer night is next Wednesday, and none of the other hotels are cutting it. At first I heard you'd booked yours to a relative, so I didn't ask. Now that it's open, can you hold it for me?"

Leo was a director at a sizeable influencer agency now, and their influencer night was the highlight of the year. They invited all the big names in the business, and the boss showed up in person to hand out the awards.

I asked him about the headcount, the program, the equipment list. By the time he finished, I had it all mapped out in my head.

"We're old classmates, so I'll give you the at-cost rate. Fifty thousand, all-inclusive. Half-day venue, equipment, setup, and dinner."

Leo burst out laughing on the other end. "Fifty grand? Mase, the company's paying, not me. Who are you trying to save money for? I turn that number in and finance and audit will both chew me out for having no taste, going with the cheap option! I've heard about you, you know. You charge fifteen thousand minimum to outside clients. Full price. Full price, and I'll head over right now to sign the contract!"

Leo hung up, and all of a sudden I found the whole thing a little ironic. Zachery looked at me, puzzled. "Mr. Dickerson, are we taking it?"

He knew I'd always gone easy on relatives, and he was afraid I'd still want to hold the space for Saul.

But not this time.

I nodded. "We're taking it. Tell the guys to get started."

In under ten minutes, the whole lobby was buzzing again.

Watching the venue come together bit by bit, I felt something almost like anticipation. In three days, I wondered just how much of a mess Saul's corporate gala was going to turn into.