Chapter Twelve: The Pavilion
The exhibition hall smelled of fresh bread, coffee, and heated metal from portable cooking stations.
Attendees moved between stalls carrying tasting cards and small paper plates.
An announcer welcomed people to the first afternoon presentation while a band played near the harbor doors.
The North Quay pavilion stood beyond a row of cheese vendors.
Its entrance featured a giant version of the forest poster, complete with Walter’s name.
Two workers were arranging dishes behind a counter.
Lily saw no mushroom ingredients on the public side, but a printed sign promised tasting samples in twenty minutes.
Thomas approached Helena Baird, who had stationed herself near the pavilion with a building supervisor.
She greeted Walter with visible relief.
“The demonstration has been suspended,” she said.
“We instructed North Quay not to serve the questioned ingredient pending assessment.
”
“Good,” Walter replied.
“Are the cooking staff informed?”
Helena hesitated.
“Their director says they have a substitute menu.”
Lily looked at the sign.
“The advertised dish is still on display.”
Helena called a staff member over and ordered the sign removed until the replacement ingredients could be verified.
At that moment Adrian Kroll appeared from behind the pavilion carrying a leather briefcase.
He looked older than Lily expected, with silver-rimmed glasses and a bright tie that seemed too cheerful for the argument he was approaching.
“Thomas,” he said.
“This is a remarkable amount of trouble over an ingredient name.”
“It’s trouble over what you sold and what you claimed,” Thomas replied.
Kroll looked at Walter.
“Mr. Bennett, surely we can reach a compromise.”
“Remove my name from the promotion,” Walter said.
“That should have happened already.”
Kroll spread his hands.
“Marketing decisions were made in good faith.”
“Then correcting one should be easy.”
Helena asked Kroll to confirm that none of the held mushroom lot would be used.
He said the culinary team had switched to a commercially cultivated product from another vendor.
Walter recommended that the kitchen supervisor confirm the substitute through its ordinary receiving and safety procedures.
Kroll bristled.
“You’re making me sound irresponsible.”
A voice behind Lily answered him.
“You did that yourself.”
Grant Holloway stepped from the side aisle.
He was no longer wearing his manager’s jacket, and his hair looked as though he had been running his hands through it.
Thomas stared at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Trying to stop you from ruining months of work,” Grant replied.
Helena turned to her supervisor.
“Please keep the service hold in place while we sort this out.”
Grant pointed at Lily.
“Of course she’s here.”
Lily kept her hands at her sides.
“I was invited by Thomas.”
“You weren’t even supposed to work yesterday.”
“You fired me,” Lily reminded him.
“You can’t complain that I’m not following your schedule.”
Several visitors had stopped nearby, attracted by the raised voices.
Helena asked everyone to move the conversation into the nearby office.
Kroll objected that his customers were arriving.
“Your customers aren’t being served the questioned ingredient until the issue is settled,” she said.
“That decision isn’t open for negotiation at the counter.”
In the office, Grant claimed he had been promised written supplier verification before the dinner.
Kroll insisted the restaurant had accepted all the promotional terms.
Thomas asked both men to explain why Walter’s name appeared as an endorsing expert.
Neither answered directly.
“I used the materials North Quay provided,” Grant said eventually.
Kroll pointed at him.
“You approved the final wording.”
Lily watched Grant glance toward the door.
For the first time he seemed aware that neither man could simply dismiss the other and walk away.
“I asked for a stronger claim because tickets weren’t selling,” Grant said.
“That is not the same as inventing an endorsement.”
Walter folded his hands.
“Then who invented it?”
Grant said nothing.
Kroll’s face had gone rigid.
Helena checked a message on her phone.
A city food-safety representative was arriving to speak with the organizer and vendors.
The afternoon tasting would not proceed while the ingredient concerns remained unresolved.
Kroll swore under his breath.
Grant turned toward Thomas.
“You’re going to let them close us down over this?”
Thomas met his eyes.
“There’s no ‘us’ here anymore, Grant.”
