Chapter 2 - Twenty Minutes, Nothing More
Elena's twenty minutes began in a private dining room with twelve people pretending dinner was still possible.
It wasn't.
The table had been prepared like something out of a magazine: ivory linen, hand-cut crystal, white roses, gold-edged plates, candles reflected in tall windows overlooking Manhattan.
Elena sat between Anthony and an empty chair.
Luca sat directly across from her.
Dominic sat at the head of the table.
No one touched the first course.
Elena kept the blue ledger beside her plate.
Dominic looked at it every few seconds.
"That document doesn't normally leave accounting."
"Then tonight is special," Elena said.
Anthony whispered, "Could you maybe try not to antagonize anyone?"
She turned.
"You brought me to a surprise marriage negotiation."
"It wasn't supposed to be a surprise."
"Excellent defense."
"I thought Mom told you."
Their mother, Sofia Russo, looked down at her hands.
Elena's anger shifted.
Not disappeared.
Shifted.
Her mother wasn't calculating.
She was afraid.
That disturbed Elena more.
Luca noticed too.
"Why wasn't she told?" he asked.
Anthony stiffened.
Dominic answered.
"The Russo family believed Elena would be more receptive after meeting you."
Elena stared at him.
"Is that the polite version of saying you thought I wouldn't show up if I knew?"
No one answered.
"Good."
She turned to Luca.
"Did you know?"
"That you hadn't been told?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Did you agree to the arrangement?"
A pause.
"I agreed to a conversation."
"About marrying me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Anthony shifted.
Dominic watched carefully.
Luca did neither.
"Because both families believed it could settle several business matters."
Elena almost laughed.
"Romantic."
"I wasn't pretending it was."
For some reason, the answer irritated her less than it should have.
At least he wasn't dressing strategy as destiny.
A waiter entered with wine.
No one spoke until he left.
Elena reopened the ledger.
"Vantage Hospitality Services."
Dominic sighed.
"We're still doing this?"
"You wanted twenty minutes."
"I believe Luca offered the twenty minutes."
Dominic looked toward his nephew.
"This is unnecessary."
Luca leaned back in his chair.
"Then it should be easy to clear up."
For the first time, Dominic looked uncomfortable.
Elena examined the vendor history.
Emergency staffing.
Cleaning.
AV removal.
Floral disposal.
Linen replacement.
Equipment rental.
All services difficult to verify after an event ended.
Smart.
Or convenient.
"Who approves these?"
"Our operations director," Dominic said.
"Name?"
"Thomas Bale."
"And after Bale?"
"Depending on the amount, finance."
"Who oversees finance?"
"I do."
Anthony dropped his fork.
The sound was tiny.
Everyone heard it.
Dominic smiled.
"There. Mystery solved. I oversee finance, therefore Elena thinks I'm stealing from my own family."
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"No. You heard it."
Luca's gaze moved from Elena to his uncle.
"How much have we paid Vantage this year?"
Dominic shrugged.
"I don't memorize vendor totals."
Elena looked down the page.
"I can estimate."
"Nobody asked you."
Luca did.
"Estimate."
Elena turned through several pages.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
"At least eight hundred thousand."
Anthony stared at her.
Dominic's expression sharpened.
"Ridiculous."
"Probably more. I'm only counting what I can see."
Luca extended his hand.
She slid the ledger across the table.
He studied it.
"What would you need to know if the charges are legitimate?" he asked.
"Payroll records."
"Vendor invoices exist."
"Not invoices. Payroll. If Vantage supplied thirty-five cleaners at midnight, thirty-five people got paid."
Dominic said, "Independent contractors."
"Then contractor records."
"Confidential."
"Not to the company paying them."
Silence again.
Elena continued.
"Loading dock logs. Security footage. Elevator access. Linen-room records. Kitchen closeout reports. Banquet captain notes."
Dominic gave a humorless laugh.
"Anything else?"
"Weather."
That caught Luca's attention.
"Weather?"
"If an invoice claims emergency snow cleanup on a day it was sixty degrees, I like knowing."
Luca's mouth almost moved into a smile.
Almost.
Dominic did not appreciate it.
"She works at small family properties," he said. "The Moretti Grand is not comparable."
Elena's eyes lifted.
The Russo hotels were smaller.
It was also true that she had personally managed conventions larger than some hotels' annual occupancy.
But she didn't defend herself.
She asked, "How many banquet chairs do you own?"
Dominic frowned.
"What?"
"Grand North Ballroom. Maximum dinner capacity."
"Approximately six hundred."
"How many banquet chairs?"
"I don't know."
"How many linen carts fit in your north service elevator?"
No answer.
"Where is the banquet dish room?"
Dominic's jaw tightened.
"That's irrelevant."
"No. That's operations."
She turned to Luca.
"If you want to know whether the $48,000 charge is possible, don't start with accounting."
"Where do I start?"
"With the people who actually move the room."
For the first time that evening, Luca looked at her not as a woman his family had proposed as a wife.
He looked at her as someone whose answer mattered.
"What do you need?"
"A floor plan."
Dominic cut in.
"Absolutely not."
Elena raised an eyebrow.
"A ballroom floor plan?"
"Internal hotel information."
"Your competitors can book a site visit and get one."
Anthony coughed into his napkin to hide a laugh.
Dominic glared at him.
Luca stood.
Every conversation stopped.
"Come with me."
Elena did not move.
"Where?"
"Grand North."
She looked at the antique clock.
"Seventeen minutes left."
"I walk fast."
She looked him up and down.
"With those legs, I assume you do."
Anthony made a choking sound.
Luca stared at Elena.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
It was brief.
Low.
Almost surprised.
The room reacted as though someone had broken a museum exhibit.
Elena stood.
"Show me the ballroom."
They left the dining room with Dominic following.
"I don't see why this is necessary," he said.
Luca ignored him.
The Grand North Ballroom occupied nearly half the hotel's third floor.
When the doors opened, Elena immediately forgot the arranged marriage.
This was her world.
Thirty-foot ceilings.
Crystal fixtures.
Hidden rigging points.
Three service doors.
Two guest entrances.
Portable dance floor stacked along the back wall.
She walked directly to the service corridor.
"Where are you going?" Dominic asked.
"The room isn't the interesting part."
She pushed open a gray door.
Luca followed.
Suddenly the luxury disappeared.
Concrete walls.
Metal carts.
Utility lighting.
Service elevators.
A dishwasher pushed a rack past them and nearly stopped when he saw Luca.
"Keep going," Luca said.
The man obeyed.
Elena examined the corridor.
"Which elevator is used for banquet turnover?"
"Both," Dominic said.
A voice behind them corrected him.
"North service only after seven."
They turned.
An older woman stood beside a linen cart.
Gray hair.
Black housekeeping uniform.
Name badge: MARIA SANTOS.
Dominic looked annoyed.
Elena smiled.
"Why only north?"
"South goes to room service during dinner rush."
"How long have you worked here?"
"Twenty-three years."
Elena glanced at Luca.
"She knows more about this hotel than everyone at dinner combined."
Maria smiled cautiously.
Dominic did not.
Elena pointed toward Grand North.
"How long would it take to fully reset that room after a four-hundred-person dinner?"
Maria considered.
"Fast crew?"
"Fast."
"Two hours."
"Emergency?"
"Maybe ninety minutes if everyone knows what they're doing."
"Could you begin while four hundred guests were inside?"
Maria laughed.
Then noticed Dominic wasn't laughing.
Her smile vanished.
"No."
Elena turned to Luca.
"There's your first answer."
Dominic spoke softly.
"One employee's opinion doesn't establish fraud."
Elena nodded.
"Correct."
She looked at Maria.
"Do you remember a gala here on May seventeenth?"
Maria's face changed.
Dominic stepped forward.
"That's enough."
Luca's voice stopped him.
"Let her answer."
Maria looked from Luca to Dominic.
Then to Elena.
"Yes."
"Why?"
The older woman hesitated.
"Because management blamed my crew."
"For what?"
Maria's hands tightened around the cart.
"For a turnover we never did."
The corridor became very quiet.
Luca's expression hardened.
"Explain."
Maria swallowed.
"The next morning, Mr. Bale said our crew had exceeded emergency overtime."
"Had you?"
"No."
"Did you work the room?"
"We cleaned it after midnight like normal. But the extra crew on the invoice..."
She looked toward Dominic.
"...they never came."
Elena felt the story shift beneath her feet.
"How many people did the invoice claim?"
Maria lowered her voice.
"Thirty-eight."
"How many arrived?"
"None."
Dominic stepped toward her.
"Be very careful."
Luca moved once.
That was all.
He placed himself between his uncle and Maria.
"She doesn't need to be careful."
Dominic stared up at his nephew.
Luca's voice remained calm.
"You do."
Maria's face had gone pale.
Elena approached her.
"Did you report it?"
Maria nodded.
"To who?"
"Mr. Bale."
"And?"
"He told me the records had already been approved."
"By whom?"
Maria looked toward Dominic again.
No one breathed.
Then she whispered, "Mr. Moretti."
Luca's eyes hardened.
Dominic gave a cold laugh.
"There are two Mr. Morettis standing here."
Maria stared at the floor.
Elena already knew which one she meant.
But before Maria could say it, the service elevator doors opened.
A security manager stepped out.
He looked at Luca.
"Sir, we have a problem."
"What?"
"The accounting office."
Luca's face went still.
"What about it?"
"The Vantage files are gone."
Elena felt a chill move through her.
The security manager continued.
"Someone cleared the cabinets less than ten minutes ago."
Luca slowly looked at his uncle.
And Elena checked the time.
Her promised twenty minutes had expired.
But now she wasn't thinking about leaving.
She was thinking about whoever had realized she was asking the right questions.
May you like
Because that person had started running.
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