CHAPTER FIVE — THE PRICE OF A SEAT
By nine o’clock, the dining room had begun filling with people who had paid to attend the Thirteenth Course.
Some arrived in tuxedos and gowns, and others wore office clothes under raincoats.
Several were regular patrons who treated the Halcyon Room as an extension of their living rooms.
A few had attended earlier versions of Walter’s play and looked delighted to see the battered wooden table in such an expensive setting.
A narrow platform had been assembled beside the piano.
The musicians tuned their instruments without amplification, testing how far the sound carried across the marble floor.
Emily had changed into a dry blouse borrowed from Anika.
She stood beside Mara at the entrance as guests collected programs.
Mara had removed Conrad’s revised versions and replaced them with photocopies of the original script notes.
The pages were plainly printed and did not match the elegant gold covers, but nobody seemed to mind until Victoria appeared.
She held up a program between two fingers.
“This is unacceptable,” she said.
“The performance hasn’t begun,” Mara replied.
“I paid for the champagne ceremony.”
“That ceremony was not part of our agreement.”
“It was part of my agreement with Conrad.”
“Then you’ll need to discuss that with Conrad,” Mara said.
Victoria glanced around for support.
“There are people here who expect a certain standard.”
Emily surprised herself by answering.
“They’ll receive a performance. If they want champagne afterward, I believe the bar is still open.”
Victoria recognized her voice and turned sharply.
“You’re still here.”
“I am,” Emily said.
“Some people have no sense of embarrassment.”
“I know,” Emily replied. “I watched you demonstrate that earlier.”
Mara coughed into her hand to cover a smile.
A tall man approached from the crowd.
He introduced himself as Bennett Langford, Victoria’s younger brother.
Emily expected another lecture, but he sounded embarrassed.
“My sister called me and said the performance had been changed,” he said.
“It has been restored to the original,” Mara explained.
Bennett nodded.
“Good. I bought tickets because I saw the show in Brooklyn.”
Victoria stared at him.
“You never told me that.”
“You never asked what the show was about,” he replied.
At the far end of the room, Celia was speaking with a representative from the company that had financed the event’s printed materials.
The representative, a cheerful man named Oliver Knox, held a tablet and a contract.
“The revised program offered naming rights,” he said.
“We didn’t approve that,” Celia answered.
“Conrad did.”
“Conrad cannot sell rights to a play we don’t own.”
“The sponsors expected visibility.”
“Then the sponsors need to be told the truth,” Celia said.
Oliver looked toward Victoria, who was now arguing with her brother.
“That may be difficult.”
“I imagine it will,” Celia said.
