“You didn’t think I looked like someone who could afford it.”
Claire lowered her eyes.
“Yes.”
Jordan looked at his mother.
Naomi’s expression remained calm.
Claire added quickly, “That was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Naomi nodded.
Then she said the thing Claire feared most.
“We’ll discuss this Monday.”
Claire looked up.
“Am I being fired?”
Naomi studied her.
It would have been easy.
Satisfying even.
The lobby would probably have applauded.
Social media would have loved the story.
Powerful woman humiliated.
Powerful woman reveals identity.
Employee instantly fired.
Clean ending.
Real leadership was rarely that simple.
Naomi said, “I don’t make employment decisions while angry.”
Claire blinked.
“You’re going home for the remainder of the weekend.”
The woman’s face dropped.
“Ms. Grant—”
“Paid administrative leave.”
Claire became quiet.
“Human resources will review today’s security footage, your reservation notes and prior guest complaints.”
Claire’s face changed again.
Naomi noticed.
“That reaction tells me there may be prior complaints.”
Claire said nothing.
David looked toward her.
Naomi continued.
“If this was an isolated failure in judgment, the investigation will show that.”
“And if it wasn’t?”
Naomi looked toward her son.
“Then Monday will be a different conversation.”
Claire nodded slowly.
Naomi turned to Mr. Robinson.
“You were called without context?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did you threaten me?”
“No.”
“Ask me to leave?”
“No.”
“Touch me?”
“No.”
“No.”
He looked surprised by the question.
Naomi nodded.
“Thank you.”
Mr. Robinson seemed relieved.
Then she added, “But next time someone calls security on a guest, ask why before you arrive looking like enforcement.”
He absorbed that.
“You’re right.”
“My son thought he was in trouble.”
Mr. Robinson looked at Jordan.
His expression softened.
“I’m sorry about that, young man.”
Jordan studied him.
“Are you a police officer?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Mr. Robinson smiled.
“I just keep people safe here.”
Jordan nodded.
“That’s good.”
The tension broke slightly.
David looked toward Naomi.
“Do you want me to get your suite?”
Naomi almost laughed.
“That would be nice.”
Ten minutes later, the general manager called Claire directly.
Twenty minutes after that, Naomi and Jordan were inside the executive elevator.
Jordan held a carton of french fries the restaurant had sent out while the staff scrambled to recover from the disaster.
He ate one.
Then looked at Naomi.
“You really own this place?”
“Our company owns most of it.”
“So yes.”
“Kind of.”
Jordan grinned.
“Can I have the chandelier?”