Chapter 14 - The Reckoning of the Monarch
Before returning to Lake Forest, Gabriel ordered the town car to stop outside the Monarch Room on North Michigan Avenue.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon, the quiet hour between lunch and dinner service when the dining room was being set for the evening crowd.
Claire walked through the heavy front doors, no longer wearing her stained server apron, but dressed in her tailored wool coat, her head held high.
Gabriel walked a half-step behind her, his presence immediately commanding the attention of the entire room.
Douglas Crane stood near the mahogany host stand, reviewing the evening’s VIP reservation book.
When he looked up and saw Claire walking in alongside Gabriel Mercer, the silver pen slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor.
“Mr.
Mercer,” Douglas stammered, stepping out from behind the stand, his face instantly arranging itself into a nauseating, obsequious smile.
“What an unexpected pleasure, sir.
Our private suite is completely open if you wish to—”
“I am not here for dinner, Douglas,” Gabriel said, his voice flat and freezing.
Douglas blinked, his eyes darting anxiously toward Claire.
“Claire...
Miss Bennett.
Look, about the misunderstanding the other night—”
“It was not a misunderstanding, Mr.
Crane,” Claire said, stopping two feet from him.
“You withheld my tips.
You terminated my employment without cause.
And you told me that invisible people belong in the cellar.”
Douglas swallowed hard, his collar suddenly looking three sizes too tight.
“I was under immense pressure that night, Claire!
Mr.
Pike was a difficult client, and restaurant policy regarding guest interactions is very strict—”
“Pike Logistics no longer exists,” Gabriel interrupted, his tone chillingly smooth.
“Warren Pike is currently being processed at the Dirksen Federal Building on federal fraud charges.”
Douglas’s jaw dropped open.
“And as of three o'clock this afternoon,” Gabriel continued, pulling a blue legal folio from his coat, “the real estate trust that holds the commercial lease on the Monarch Room building has been purchased by the Bennett-Kurohana Foundation.”
Douglas looked from Gabriel to Claire, his eyes bulging with sheer panic.
“The...
the foundation?”
“Miss Bennett is the majority trustee,” Gabriel said.
“Which means you are currently standing on her floor.”
Claire looked around the grand dining room.
She looked at the crystal chandeliers, the polished walnut tables, and the young waitresses polishing glassware by the service bar, their shoulders tense with the familiar anxiety of working under a petty tyrant.
She stepped closer to Douglas, her voice dropping into a clear, even tone that carried across the entire room.
“Clean out your desk, Douglas,” Claire said.
Douglas turned crimson.
“You can't fire me!
I’ve managed this dining room for nine years!”
“I can,” Claire said.
“And I just did.
Clock out.
Take your things.
If I see your face on this floor before dinner service begins, Elias will have security escort you to the curb.”
Douglas stared at her, utterly broken, before turning and practically running down the narrow hallway toward his basement office.
The young waitresses by the bar stared at Claire in wide-eyed, stunned admiration.
Claire smiled gently at them, unpinning her coat, feeling a weight she had carried for three years vanish into the warm air of the dining room.
May you like
“Set the tables for eight,” Claire instructed the staff with quiet confidence.
“And starting tonight, all tips are split equally among the floor staff and the dishwashers.”
