Emily moved among the arrivals with a tray of water glasses.
It was the first time that evening she had carried a tray without feeling as if Conrad were watching the angle of her wrist.
A woman in a purple coat stopped her.
“Are you one of the performers?” she asked.
“I’m a waitress.”
“So you’re part of the performance?”
Emily considered the question.
“Apparently that depends on what I decide in the next ten minutes.”
The woman laughed kindly.
“Then I hope you decide to stay.”

Behind the curtain, Walter was sitting on an overturned crate while a young actor adjusted a microphone.
He had changed from his wet coat into an ordinary gray jacket.
Emily approached him.
“Victoria is telling people you tricked her.”
“Did you trick her?” he asked.
“I don’t think I had the chance.”
“Then don’t carry her story as if it belonged to you.”
“I still want to know why your phone call scared Conrad.”
Walter tapped the rehearsal schedule.
“Because he knew that Mara was bringing people who could refuse to do the show. He had promised a spectacle he could control, and he discovered that the people making it had choices.”
“You’re not an owner or a billionaire.”
“My landlord would be delighted to hear that rumor.”
Emily smiled for the first time since the water hit her face.

Walter stood with some difficulty.
“I owe you an apology,” he said.
Emily looked up.
“For what?”
“For allowing my entrance to resemble a test. I should have told the staff that I planned to sit in the dining room before the performance.”
“Would you have seen what happened otherwise?”
“Maybe not. But the fact that a bad thing taught me something doesn’t make the bad thing useful or fair.”
Emily thought of Conrad’s threats, Victoria’s glass, and the hungry look Walter had worn before she served him soup.
“I accept the apology,” she said. “I haven’t decided whether I want to be in the show.”
“Then your decision is still yours.”

At nine fifteen, a stagehand ran into the salon.
“Mara, the hotel across the street has sent a message.”
“What hotel?”
“The Clarion. Their banquet director says Victoria booked their ballroom as an alternative venue.”
Mara stared.
“For tonight?”
“For the guests who want to leave.”
Walter looked toward the dining room.
The richest customers were beginning to divide into two groups, one curious about the play and the other moving toward Victoria.
The audience had not yet taken their seats, and the performance was already happening.

CHAPTER SIX — TWO ROOMS

Victoria stood beneath the restaurant’s largest chandelier and announced that anyone who valued a proper evening was welcome to follow her across the street.
She had secured the Clarion Hotel’s smaller ballroom, and its kitchen could prepare a private supper at short notice.
Her announcement was not a whisper between friends.
It was a declaration addressed to the entire room.
“We can still have an elegant evening without being lectured by people who are paid to carry plates,” she said.
Several guests moved toward her, although others remained where they were.
Bennett stepped away from his sister and took a seat at an ordinary table near the center.
Victoria looked as if he had personally insulted her.
“Bennett, please.”
“I came to see a play,” he said. “I’m going to see it.”