Chapter 3 - THE SERVER WHO SPOKE
The engagement party had stopped being a celebration.
Servers stood along the edges of the lawn.
Guests gathered in uneasy clusters.
Nobody seemed interested in the flowers anymore.
Ethan walked toward the young server.
“What’s your name?”
“Daniel, sir.”
“How long have you been working here today?”
“Since eleven.”
Ethan looked toward Vanessa.
“Did she threaten you?”
Daniel hesitated.
Vanessa immediately interrupted.
“He’s temporary staff.”
I turned to her.
“That was not the question.”
Ethan repeated it.
“Daniel, did Vanessa threaten your job because you tried to help my mother?”
Daniel looked toward the catering supervisor.
The supervisor gave him a tiny nod.
“Yes, sir.”
Vanessa threw up her hands.
“I was joking.”
Daniel looked at her.
“No, ma’am.”
That simple response carried more weight than shouting would have.
He continued.
“You told me that if I touched her, I wouldn’t have a job by the time cake was served.”
Ethan closed his eyes briefly.
Vanessa stepped toward him.
“Ethan, people say things when they’re stressed.”
“What were you stressed about?”
“She walked into a private event dressed like that.”
Ethan stared at her.
I saw Vanessa realize her mistake before the sentence was even finished.
“Dressed like what?”
She said nothing.
He gestured toward me.
“Like someone who couldn’t help your social status?”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Then explain what you meant.”
Patricia stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Ethan looked at her.
“No, Mrs. Mitchell.”
His voice was colder than I had ever heard it.
“I think I’ve spent months hearing only the version of your family that you wanted me to hear.”
George adjusted his cuff.
“This is becoming theatrical.”
I turned toward him.
“You ordered someone to search my bag.”
His face tightened.
“I was protecting the property.”
“From groceries?”
Several guests looked away.
George had no answer.
My phone vibrated.
A message appeared from my security director, Martin Hale.
He was parked three blocks away exactly as I had instructed.
He had watched my live location without interfering unless I signaled.
I typed four words.
COME TO THE MAIN LAWN.
Vanessa noticed.
“Who are you texting?”
“The man who knows why I’m actually here.”
Ethan turned toward me.
“What does that mean?”
I looked at my son.
There was pain in his eyes.
Confusion too.
I hated keeping anything from him.
But this was no longer only about Vanessa’s behavior toward me.
“I received information three weeks ago.”
George’s posture changed.
“What information?”
“About the Mitchell Family Foundation.”
Patricia’s face went still.
Vanessa stopped breathing for a fraction of a second.
Ethan noticed.
“What about the foundation?”
I looked at him.
“Someone has been using your name in conversations with potential donors.”
His expression hardened.
“I never authorized that.”
“I know.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“This is ridiculous.”
I looked directly at her.
“Then you should have nothing to fear.”
The side gate opened.
Martin Hale walked onto the lawn carrying a slim black folder.
May you like
Vanessa looked at the folder.
For the first time since Ethan had stepped outside, she did not try to smile.
