“I don't know what I'm going to do.”
“You'll figure it out.”
“I have four days.”
“For what?”
“Rent.”
Her mother was silent.
Then:
“We'll figure it out.”
“No.”
“Marissa—”
“No, Mom.”
She swallowed.
“You need your medication.”
Her mother sighed.
“And you need help.”
“I'll find another job.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it's true.”
“You can't carry everyone.”
Marissa looked toward the street.
“Somebody has to.”
She hung up.
She didn't see the black sedan parked across the road.
Inside sat Ethan Calloway.
He had followed her only long enough to make sure she wasn't stranded.
He wasn't sure why.
Maybe because he had spent most of his life surrounded by people who could solve every problem with money.
And he had just watched a woman lose her job because she had five dollars worth of compassion.
He hated that.
But Ethan had learned something over the years.
Money could solve problems.
It couldn't tell you which problems mattered.
His phone rang.
“Nolan.”
“I have the file.”
“Anything?”
“More than you expected.”
Ethan leaned back.
“Talk.”
“There have been complaints.”
“How many?”
“Seventeen formal complaints in five years.”
Ethan's expression changed.
“What kind?”
“Mostly customer treatment.”
“That's vague.”
“Racial profiling. Refusal of service. Harassment. One complaint about staff throwing away food while people waited outside.”
Ethan became still.
“What?”
“Exactly.”
“Who investigated?”
“Internal management.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
Ethan looked toward the bookstore.
Marissa was gone.
“Nolan.”
“Yes?”
“Get me the employee records.”
“You're going to fire Vance.”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Ethan looked down at the file.
“I want to know who protected him.”
The Investigation Nobody Expected
The next morning, Ethan Calloway walked into the headquarters of Ashford Hospitality.
Nobody expected him.
That was deliberate.
The receptionist stood.
“Mr. Calloway.”
“Good morning.”
She immediately reached for the phone.
“Would you like me to notify Mr. Vance?”
“No.”
He walked past her.
His executive assistant followed.
Nolan came behind them carrying two folders.
“Conference room?”
“Room seven.”
They entered.
Ethan sat at the head of the table.
Nolan opened the first folder.
“Roger Vance has been general manager at the Ashford Grill for six years.”
“Performance?”
“Strong sales.”
“Complaints?”
“Seventeen.”
“Employee turnover?”
“Thirty-eight percent above the group average.”
Ethan frowned.
“Why wasn't that flagged?”
“Vance's location consistently exceeded revenue targets.”
Ethan leaned back.
“So we rewarded results.”
“Basically.”
“Even when the methods were questionable.”
Nolan nodded.
Ethan looked at the second folder.
“What's this?”
“Complaint from eight months ago.”
He read it.
A Black customer claimed Vance accused him of being a thief after he asked to use the restroom.
Another complaint alleged that a disabled veteran was told to wait outside because “regular customers had priority.”
Another claimed that Vance had instructed staff never to give leftovers away.
Ethan looked up.
“Did anyone interview the employees?”
“Apparently not.”
“Why?”
“Vance called most of the complaints exaggerated.”
Ethan closed the folder.
“Convenient.”
He stood.
“Let's go.”
“To the restaurant?”
“Yes.”
Nolan sighed.
“You know you're making this personal.”
Ethan stopped.
“No.”
He looked at him.
“I'm making it systemic.”
They arrived at eleven-thirty.
Roger Vance was behind the counter.
He saw Ethan immediately.
His face changed.
“Mr. Calloway.”
Ethan nodded.
“Mr. Vance.”
Roger extended his hand.
Ethan didn't take it.
Roger slowly lowered his hand.
“Is something wrong?”
Ethan looked around.
The restaurant was nearly empty.
“Where's Marissa Hayes?”
Roger blinked.
“Who?”
“Your server.”
“Oh.”
He smiled.
“She was terminated.”
“I know.”
Roger's smile disappeared.
“I'm sorry?”
“You fired her yesterday.”
“She violated inventory policy.”
“By giving away food that was going to be discarded.”
Roger straightened.
“Mr. Calloway, with respect, you weren't there.”
“I know.”
“I handled it according to company policy.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Did you?”
Roger hesitated.
Ethan pulled a printed document from his folder.
“Section 8.4 of the waste-management policy.”
He handed it over.
Roger read.
Ethan said:
“It allows managers to donate safe surplus food through approved community channels.”
Roger looked up.
“That's not what it says.”
“It is.”
Roger's face reddened.
“I've managed this restaurant for six years.”