Now it felt like a trap he had sprung himself.
“The event is already underway,” Charles said.
Simon looked at his bowl.
“A dinner is underway.”
“There are contracts.”
“There were conditions.”
Charles tried to lower his voice.
“We can compensate the waitress.”
“She isn’t an invoice you can settle and forget.”
Hannah felt every eye on her.
She had expected to spend the evening looking for another job, not becoming the center of a dispute involving fortunes she could barely imagine.
“I don’t want their money,” she said.
Adrian seized on the statement.
“There you are, Mr. Weller.”
“I want my job back,” Hannah continued.
“And I want an apology that doesn’t disappear when the important people leave.”
Simon studied her carefully.
“Those are two different requests,” he said.
Hannah nodded.
“I know.”
At the entrance, a woman wearing a navy raincoat hurried inside carrying a document case.
She was followed by the Meridian’s owner, Eleanor Price, whose pale face suggested she had received a very unwelcome call.
The woman introduced herself as Miriam Solis, counsel for the Weller Harbor Trust.
“Mr. Weller,” she said, “the auction has been suspended pending review.”
The pianist stopped playing.
A man at the investor table asked whether the suspension applied to all twelve parcels.
Miriam opened her case.
“Yes,” she said.
“All twelve.”
Charles stared at the documents.
“You cannot punish an entire consortium because of a single waiter.”
“Waitress,” Hannah corrected.
Simon gave Charles no opportunity to recover.
“I have spent seventy years learning which people notice when another person is hungry,” he said.
“Tonight, I have my answer.”
Chapter 3: Twelve Seats
The investor table held twelve people, but only Charles Voss seemed eager to speak.
His nearest colleague, Beatrice Leland, was the president of an insurance group that had financed redevelopment throughout New England.
Across from her sat brothers Owen and Julian Mercer, whose hotel company had recently borrowed heavily against unfinished properties.
The others represented construction firms, private funds, shipping interests, and a retail corporation seeking exclusive access to the waterfront.
Together, they had raised more money than Hannah’s neighborhood would see in several lifetimes.
Their panic was not identical.
Beatrice worried that the auction suspension would trigger a deadline in her financing agreement.
Owen feared his lenders would demand new collateral.
Julian feared his brother might finally learn the extent of his private debts.
A developer named Celia Fane stared at the tablecloth because she already suspected Charles had made promises on behalf of the consortium that no one else knew about.
