“Do not let them bury it.”
“I won’t.”
“What time is our board arriving?”
“Seven thirty.”
“Move to seven.”
“Seller board?”
“Eight thirty.”
“Signing nine.”
“For now.”
“For now.”
Lena said quietly:
“Do you want my opinion?”
“Yes.”
“Do not sign at nine.”
Adrian looked at the unsigned room-service bill.
“Even if we can’t prove discrimination?”
“Forget morality for one second.”
“Legally, their representation that there were no undisclosed practices reasonably likely to create material brand or employment liability may be inaccurate.”
“Commercially, you buy this tomorrow, every buried complaint becomes ours.”
“Operationally, the policy is terrible.”
“And morally?”
Lena paused.
“You already know.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“Move our board.”
“I will.”
“Get some sleep.”
He laughed.
“You’re committed to that fiction.”
“It’s my leadership style.”
The call ended.
Adrian did not sleep.
At 5:40 a.m., he showered.
At 6:10, he walked downstairs.
Different staff worked the morning shift.
Nobody recognized him.
A young Black bellman near the door nodded politely.
“Morning, sir.”
“Morning.”
Adrian crossed the lobby and approached the front desk.
Claire was gone.
Evan too.
A middle-aged man stood behind the counter.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning, Mr. Bennett.”
He knew.
Of course.
“Everything okay with your stay?”
“Yes.”
“Coffee available in the executive lounge.”
“Thank you.”
Adrian stopped.
“What happened to the two employees from last night?”
The man’s eyes shifted.
“I’m not certain.”
“Were they suspended?”
“I believe management asked them to go home pending review.”
“Good.”
“Not fired?”
“Not that I know.”
Adrian nodded.
“Thank you.”
He walked toward the lounge.
The bellman followed at a respectful distance.
“Mr. Bennett?”
Adrian turned.
The young man looked nervous.
“Yes?”
“I probably shouldn’t say anything.”
Adrian waited.
The bellman glanced toward front desk.
“My name’s Terrence.”
“Okay.”
“I saw what happened last night.”
Adrian studied him.
“All of it?”
“Most.”
“You were the bellman by the door.”
“Yes.”
Terrence hesitated.
“They’ve done that before.”
Adrian’s chest tightened.
“To whom?”
“People.”
“What kind of people?”
Terrence looked at him.
“You know.”
Adrian did.
Still:
“Tell me.”
Terrence lowered his voice.
“Black guests.”
“Not only.”
“Younger people.”
“People dressed casual.”
“People who book through points sometimes.”
“Musicians.”
“Athletes before somebody recognizes them.”
“Anybody staff thinks doesn’t fit.”
“How long?”
“I’ve been here two years.”
“Since before me.”
“Did you report?”