Chapter 3: The List
Nobody moved.
Richard was the first to speak.
"Explain.""
Marcus glanced toward Kevin.
"I've got screenshots.""
Kevin lunged verbally before Marcus could continue.
"Anything he has is confidential company information.""
Richard's eyes hardened.
"That's an interesting thing to worry about while police are standing here.""
Marcus pulled out his phone.
"Employees started noticing it last year. Every time Mrs. Whitmore complained about somebody, that person disappeared from the schedule.""
Diane laughed.
"This is absurd.""
Marcus ignored her.
"Jasmine complained after one of Diane's friends grabbed her waist. Her hours got cut.""
My stomach turned.
"Jasmine quit.""
Marcus nodded.
"Because she couldn't pay rent.""
Richard's jaw tightened.
"Who else?""
"Anthony.""
Our former busser.
"Lena.""
A hostess who had vanished after Christmas.
"Roberto.""
The dishwasher Kevin claimed had been unreliable.
Marcus kept naming people.
Every name landed harder.
I looked at Kevin.
"You fired them because of her?""
"No.""
"Then why does Marcus think that?""
"Because Marcus is angry about being passed over for assistant manager.""
Marcus gave a bitter laugh.
"Show him the messages, Kevin.""
Kevin froze.
Richard stepped closer.
"What messages?""
Marcus unlocked his phone and held it out.
"I took pictures of Kevin's work tablet after Lena was fired.""
Kevin reached for the phone.
Officer Martinez immediately stepped between them.
"Don't.""
Kevin stopped.
Marcus handed the phone to Richard.
I watched Richard scroll.
His face grew colder with every swipe.
"What does it say?"" I asked.
Richard hesitated.
Then read one aloud.
"'Table fourteen complained about the brunette server again. Diane wants her gone before Friday.''"
My chest tightened.
"Who was the brunette server?""
"Lena," Marcus said.
Richard scrolled again.
"'Mrs. Whitmore doesn't want Anthony working private events. Says he makes her guests uncomfortable.''"
I remembered Anthony.
Polite. Quiet. Worked two jobs because his wife was pregnant.
He had cried when Kevin fired him.
Kevin had told us Anthony had received too many complaints.
Richard looked at Kevin.
"Did you investigate any of these accusations?""
Kevin didn't answer.
"Did you?""
"No.""
The word was barely audible.
Diane rolled her eyes.
"This is becoming theatrical.""
I couldn't believe her.
"People lost their jobs.""
"They worked in a restaurant," Diane said.
"They weren't surgeons.""
I felt my hands curl into fists.
Richard stepped between us before I could respond.
"That sentence tells me everything I need to know about you.""
Diane's face flushed.
"You think you're morally superior because you bought a hospitality company?""
"No.""
Richard handed Marcus's phone back.
"I think people deserve dignity regardless of what job they have.""
Diane scoffed.
"Oh, please.""
Richard turned toward Kevin.
"I want access to every termination record from the last twenty-four months.""
Kevin's eyes widened.
"Tonight?""
"Tonight.""
"HR will need—"
"Call HR.""
Kevin lowered his voice.
"Richard, there are things you don't understand.""
"Then start explaining.""
Kevin glanced toward the police officers.
"Not here.""
That was when Officer Martinez's partner returned from speaking with witnesses.
"We have four independent statements confirming the assault," she said.
Diane sighed dramatically.
"Fine. Arrest me if that makes everyone feel better.""
Officer Martinez's expression remained neutral.
"We're still gathering information.""
Preston suddenly stood.
"I need air.""
"Sit down," Diane snapped.
He didn't.
He pushed past his chair.
Richard watched him.
"Running somewhere?""
"Screw you.""
"Preston!"" Diane shouted.
But he kept walking.
Then Marcus spoke.
"Ask him about the group chat.""
Preston stopped.
It was immediate.
His entire body went rigid.
Diane slowly turned toward Marcus.
"What group chat?""
Marcus looked uncomfortable now.
"I heard about it from one of the bartenders at another Halston restaurant.""
Preston stepped toward him.
"You don't know what you're talking about.""
"What group chat?"" Richard repeated.
Marcus swallowed.
"They call it the Service Challenge.""
I felt sick before he even explained.
"Rich kids come into restaurants and try to make servers lose their temper. They film it. Spill things.
Send food back five times. Make fake complaints. Whoever gets the biggest reaction wins.""
I stared at Preston.
"You moved that chair because you wanted me to fall.""
"No.""
"You remembered me.""
He said nothing.
"You came back because I embarrassed you three weeks ago.""
"I said no.""
His voice cracked.
Richard pulled out his phone.
"Officer, I believe the original recording may show Preston filming before the incident.""
Preston's face changed.
Diane stepped forward.
"That's enough.""
Richard opened the video.
We crowded around.
There.
At the edge of the frame.
Preston's phone was propped against a water glass, camera facing the aisle.
Recording me.
My skin went cold.
The wine hadn't been planned.
But my humiliation had.
"You wanted a video," I whispered.
Preston looked away.
"You wanted me to fall.""
"It was just supposed to be funny.""
Something hot surged through me.
"Funny?""
He finally looked at me.
"I didn't tell my mom to hit you!""
Diane slapped her palm against the table.
"Stop talking.""
But Preston was panicking now.
"You always do this! You always make everything worse!""
Her face went still.
"What did you say?""
"You weren't supposed to hit her!""
"Preston.""
"You said Kevin would handle it if she complained!""
Kevin's head jerked up.
Richard stared at him.
There was no escaping that sentence.
Kevin backed away.
"That's not what she meant.""
I almost laughed.
"What else could it mean?""
Diane grabbed her son's arm.
"You're upset. Stop talking.""
He ripped his arm away.
"No!""
Several diners were still filming.
Preston pointed at his mother.
"You told me nobody here could touch us!""
"Shut your mouth.""
"You said Uncle Charles still had enough influence to—"
Diane slapped him.
Hard.
The dining room erupted in gasps.
Preston staggered backward, hand pressed against his cheek.
For a second, mother and son simply stared at each other.
Then Richard said quietly, "There you are.""
Diane looked around and seemed to realize what she'd just done in front of two police officers and half a restaurant.
Officer Martinez stepped toward her.
"Mrs. Whitmore, put your hands where I can see them.""
Diane's composure finally shattered.
"This family has donated millions to this city!""
"Hands where I can see them.""
"You don't understand who you're dealing with.""
Richard shook his head.
"That's been your problem all night, Diane. You think everyone needs to know who you are.""
The officer moved Diane away from the table.
Preston sat down, shaking.
Kevin leaned against a chair.
I should have felt victorious.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
My face hurt.
My shift wasn't even halfway over.
And somehow a spilled glass of wine had uncovered something much uglier than one wealthy woman's temper.
Then Richard's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
He answered.
"Yes?""
Silence.
"Tonight?""
Another pause.
"Send it to me.""
He hung up.
"What happened?"" I asked.
Richard didn't answer immediately.
His phone buzzed.
An email arrived.
He opened the attachment.
At the top was the Halston Hospitality logo.
Below it was a spreadsheet containing dozens of employee names.
Some I recognized.
Some I didn't.
Beside each name was a note.
COMPLAINT.
REDUCE HOURS.
DO NOT SCHEDULE.
TERMINATE.
Then I saw my own name.
EMILY CARTER.
My breath caught.
Beside it was tomorrow's date.
And only two words.
TERMINATION APPROVED.
Richard stared at the final column.
"Who approved it?"" I whispered.
He turned the phone toward me.
May you like
The name on the screen wasn't Kevin's.
It was Charles Whitmore's.
