Then Charles made a mistake.
He told Miriam that Simon could not suspend the auction without paying a penalty.
Miriam opened the bidding package to a page marked in yellow.
“The reservation of rights is explicit,” she said.
“The trust may withdraw all parcels before final acceptance, and no bidder has yet received acceptance.”
“That’s a technicality.”
“That is the agreement you signed.”
Adrian Pike took one step toward the service corridor.
Eleanor Price caught his sleeve.
“Don’t leave,” she said.
Adrian looked at the owner with sudden irritation.
“I’m trying to restore service.”
“You’re going to tell me exactly what happened to Hannah.”
Hannah stood near the table, unsure whether to remain or leave.
Her colleague Luis Navarro appeared with a folded clean towel and handed it to her without a word.
Luis had been working beside her when Adrian pulled off her apron.
He had also watched Charles demand that other diners be moved so his guests could speak in private.
“He fired her,” Luis said.
“He did it in front of everyone.”
Adrian insisted Hannah had violated seating rules and served food without authorization.
Hannah produced the receipt showing her own employee payment for the stew.
Eleanor read it twice.
“You bought his dinner?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Eleanor’s face changed.
“Adrian, I never authorized a rule forbidding employees from buying food.”
“We have to protect our image.”
“Our image is standing in the middle of the room in a torn apron.”
For the first time that night, Adrian had no immediate reply.
Simon pushed the untouched bread toward Hannah.
“Please sit,” he said.
“You have done enough standing for other people.”
Hannah remained upright.
“I would rather speak with my owner in private,” she said.
“And I would rather not be made responsible for what happens to twelve people I don’t know.”
Simon nodded.
“Fair.”
Miriam closed her case.
“The trust’s decision belongs to the trust,” she said.
“Hannah doesn’t carry it.”
The distinction mattered more than anyone at the central table seemed to understand.
Chapter 4: The Room Upstairs
The Meridian’s upstairs auction room was empty by ten o’clock.
Twelve leather chairs stood in two neat rows beneath a projection screen displaying the harbor parcels.
Someone had placed a silver pen at each seat.
No one had signed a winning bid.
Miriam invited the bidders to a meeting the following morning and informed them that the trust would review their conduct separately from the restaurant’s employment dispute.
