Chapter 9 - The Waitress at the Million-Dollar Dinner|
The Bellmont Hotel glittered beneath hundreds of golden lights.
Crystal chandeliers illuminated the grand dining room.
Fresh roses decorated tables covered in white linen.
The guests wore diamonds, designer suits, and watches worth more than Emma's old apartment.
And Emma Carter stood near the service entrance wearing a clean white blouse, black apron, and an expression of determined calm.
It was her first major banquet assignment.
She had spent the previous days completing training and learning the hotel's service procedures.
Her supervisor had been impressed by how quickly she mastered the work.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, the man who had threatened her daughter was somewhere inside the same building.
Emma had discussed the risks with Agent Ruiz and Lydia.
They had advised her that she did not have to work the event.
She had chosen to go only after the hotel agreed to enhanced security and Ruiz arranged for investigators to be present.
Lily was safe at the protected apartment with a trusted caregiver.
Emma had no intention of confronting Enzo.
Her job was to serve guests.
Her other responsibility was to return home to her daughter.
Still, she couldn't ignore the hypocrisy surrounding her.
A enormous banner above the stage read HOPE FOR EVERY HOME.
Emma thought about the Hawthorne Court residents.
Four people who had died inside a building that should have been safe.
A waiter beside her whispered, "You look nervous."
Emma smiled faintly.
"First big event."
"You'll be fine."
She took a steadying breath.
Then she entered the dining room.
For nearly an hour, everything went smoothly.
Emma poured water, delivered plates, and answered questions about the menu.
She treated every guest with the same courtesy, whether they thanked her or barely acknowledged her existence.
Then a woman wearing a silver dress snapped her fingers.
"Waitress."
Emma approached.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"This wine is too warm."
"I'm sorry."
"Do you people receive any training?"
Emma kept her voice professional.
"I'll ask the beverage manager to check it."
The woman rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, it's impossible to find decent service anymore."
Emma nodded and turned away.
She had spent years learning that some wealthy people believed kindness was optional when speaking to someone in a uniform.
Tonight, she refused to let their arrogance embarrass her.
Then she heard a familiar voice.
"Emma."
Dominic Salvatore stood near the entrance.
He wore a black suit and dark tie.
His security chief, Dario Quinn, waited several steps behind him.
Emma had not seen Dominic in person since the DNA results arrived.
For a moment, she forgot the crowded room.
Then she remembered where they were.
"Mr. Salvatore."
Dominic noticed the formality.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm working."
"I can see that."
"Then you know I shouldn't be having a personal conversation."
His lips curved slightly.
"Fair enough."
He stepped aside.
But before she left, he spoke quietly.
"My lawyers completed another document transfer today."
Emma turned.
"To the investigators?"
"Yes."
"Even the ones involving you?"
"Especially those."
She studied his face.
"Good."
Dominic nodded.
It wasn't the warm reaction he might once have expected.
But he was beginning to understand that earning respect was different from purchasing admiration.
Across the room, Enzo Salvatore watched them.
His expression was cold.
An hour later, Emma entered a small private dining section to clear several empty plates.
Enzo sat alone in a red velvet booth.
He smiled when he saw her.
"Miss Carter."
Emma stopped.
"Good evening, sir."
"You've become quite difficult to reach."
She didn't answer.
Enzo gestured toward the seat opposite him.
"Sit down."
"I'm working."
"I can speak to your supervisor."
"I'm sure you can."
His smile faded.
"You're very confident for a woman who needed help paying her rent."
Emma felt her cheeks burn.
Enzo leaned forward.
"My nephew has a weakness for rescuing people."
"Maybe he learned something from being rescued himself."
Enzo's eyes narrowed.
"You're playing a dangerous game."
Emma kept her hands steady around the tray.
"I'm trying to earn a living."
"Then keep your attention on your work."
He lowered his voice.
"Nicholas should have understood that."
Emma went still.
Enzo smiled.
"Poor boy."
"He believed doing the right thing would save him."
For one terrible moment, Emma wanted to throw the tray across his face.
Instead, she remembered Ruiz's warning.
Don't confront him.
Don't make yourself the center of an investigation.
Get to safety if he approaches you.
Emma stepped backward.
"Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Salvatore."
Enzo reached toward her wrist.
Before he could touch her, another voice interrupted.
"Don't."
Dominic stood beside the booth.
His expression was deadly serious.
Enzo looked up.
"Dominic."
"She's working."
"I was merely having a conversation."
"Then the conversation is over."
Emma glanced between them.
She could feel the danger rising.
"Dominic, I can handle this."
He immediately stepped back.
Emma appreciated that.
She wasn't a possession to be defended.
She was a woman who needed to complete her job.
As she left, Dominic followed at a respectful distance.
Near an empty table, he leaned toward her.
"Did he threaten you?"
"He talked about Nicholas."
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"Did he say anything else?"
"That doing the right thing didn't save him."
Dominic looked toward Enzo.
Emma touched his sleeve.
"Don't do something stupid."
He turned back.
"I wasn't going to."
"Yes, you were."
Dominic exhaled.
"Maybe."
Emma looked into his eyes.
"Your brother tried to expose the truth."
"Yes."
"If you want to honor him, then stop acting like your uncle."
The words struck harder than any insult.
Dominic slowly nodded.
"You're right."
A pause followed.
Then he said, "You look happy here."
Emma glanced around the elegant dining room.
"I like the work."
"Good."
"And I earned this job."
"I know you did."
She gave him a small smile.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
There was only the woman who had pulled him from a burning car and the man struggling to become someone worthy of knowing her.
Then an elderly woman approached Emma.
"Excuse me, dear."
Emma turned.
"Can I help you?"
The woman held a faded photograph.
"My name is Ruth Delgado."
Emma recognized the surname immediately.
"Delgado?"
"My mother died at Hawthorne Court."
Emma's expression softened.
"I'm so sorry."
Ruth looked toward Enzo.
"I saw you speaking with that man."
Emma lowered her voice.
"Yes."
Ruth's hands trembled.
"I think you should know something."
She unfolded a yellowed document.
"My mother complained about dangerous conditions in that building before the fire."
Emma studied the page.
It contained a dated statement and a photograph of a damaged electrical panel.
Ruth continued.
"A young man helped her write the complaint."
"Who?"
Ruth pointed toward the photograph of Nicholas on Emma's phone.
Emma had opened it instinctively.
"That man."
Emma's heart jumped.
"Nicholas?"
Ruth nodded.
"He said people were trying to force the tenants out."
Dominic moved closer.
"Did he tell you who?"
Ruth swallowed.
"He said he'd found someone who would help."
"Who was it?"
"An inspector named Owen Bell."
Dominic frowned.
"The fire investigator?"
Ruth nodded.
"He's here tonight."
Emma glanced toward the crowded room.
Ruth pointed to a gray-haired man near the stage.
"He was going to speak to federal investigators about what happened."
Emma immediately contacted Ruiz.
But before the agent could reach the banquet hall, the lights flickered.
A sharp alarm sounded.
May you like
The chandeliers went dark.
And from somewhere behind the kitchen doors, someone screamed, "Fire!"
