“The check was made out to the venue,” I said. “But Tyler was the one who delivered it. He said he would handle the receipts.”
I reached for the brass handle of the side exit door, intending to step out onto the stone patio to clear my head.
A sharp, white flash illuminated the dark glass directly in front of my face.
I jumped back, my heel catching on the hem of my dress.
Through the glass, a figure was standing in the shadows of the boxwood hedges. They held a smartphone level with their chin, the screen glowing bright against their face.
It was Tyler’s cousin, Marcus, wearing the grey suit he was supposed to wear as an usher.
He did not move away immediately. He lowered the phone slightly, his mouth twisted into a small, tight grin, before turning and running toward the parking lot.
The flash of the phone camera reflected off the dark glass of the ballroom door, leaving a blue streak across my vision.
I turned toward the glass doors, but the dark courtyard was silent.
Eli stood three feet away, holding his wooden clipboard flat against his chest like a shield.
“Did you see that flash?” I asked, my fingers automatically reaching for my bare left ring finger to twist the empty skin.
“A headlight from the main road,” Eli said in his slow, deliberate cadence. “The wet pavement makes the glare bounce off the glass this time of night, but there is no one out there.”
He did not look at the door. He looked at the long, empty head table where my single plate of crab cakes sat cold under the giant brass chandeliers.
“My father worked thirty-six years at the garage to pay for this evening,” I said, my voice barely carrying over the hum of the air conditioning. “He wanted everything to be perfect for us, and now the room is just filled with eighty empty chairs.”
Eli set his clipboard down on the edge of the white tablecloth, adjusting his black cotton apron as he did.
“Your father is Frank Price, right?” Eli asked. “He fixed the alternator on my mother’s old station wagon three years ago, and he only charged her for the part.”
I nodded, looking down at my silver fork. “He doesn’t like to see people struggle.”
“My mother is struggling now,” Eli said, his voice dropping slightly. “She needs a valve replacement at the hospital in Louisville next month, and the surgeon wants fifteen thousand dollars before they will even schedule the operating room.”
I looked at him, realizing for the first time why he was working the late-night banquet shifts while trying to finish his hospitality degree.
“That is why you are still here,” I said.
“Every hour of overtime helps,” Eli said. “But Mr. Cole doesn’t like to pay it unless there is a full house.”
He reached for a water pitcher, his hand steady as he refilled my glass.
“You should eat some of the brie,” Eli said, pointing to the plate with a silver knife. “Loretta spent four hours on the crust.”
I excused myself to find the restroom, walking down the carpeted corridor toward the back of the manor.
The hallway narrowed near the service entrance, where the smell of bourbon-glazed meatballs was thick in the air.
Through the heavy swinging doors of the kitchen, I heard the sharp, chilly precision of Martin Cole’s voice.
“You have been at White Oak Manor for nine years, Eli,” Martin said.
I stopped by the silver water cooler, the cold metal of the cup dispenser under my hand.
“I am aware of my tenure, Mr. Cole,” Eli replied, his voice calm and low.
“Then you should be aware that we do not pay our service staff to keep lonely brides company,” Martin said.
I heard the sound of a metal tray sliding onto a rack with a loud clang.
“She is the only guest in the room, and her father paid the full eighteen thousand four hundred dollars,” Eli said.
“The contract ends at midnight,” Martin said, and I could picture him adjusting his cuffs as he delivered the threat. “If you are not clearing those tables by eleven, you will not have a shift here tomorrow.”
I held my breath, waiting for Eli’s reply, but the kitchen went completely silent.
The heavy swinging door creaked open, and I stepped back into the shadow of the vending machine.
