Chapter 5 - A Matter of Authority
The silence at Table Four was absolute, suffocating, and instantly toxic.
Jolene’s jaw had dropped so low it looked unhinged. Her face transformed from smug entitlement to an ugly, mottled shade of crimson. Paige was staring at Colton’s plate as if a venomous snake had just landed on the tablecloth, her fork frozen halfway to her mouth.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jolene shrilled, completely losing her aristocratic composure. Her voice screeched across the dining room, causing several patrons to turn and scowl. "Excuse me, young man! Chef! Did you not hear me when the waiter took our order?"
Connor rose slowly to his feet, dusting off his apron. He turned to face Jolene, his warm expression instantly hardening into a wall of solid ice. "I heard everything, ma'am."
"Then why on earth did you bring this out?" Jolene demanded, standing up and slamming her napkin onto the table. "I explicitly stated that this child was not to be served! He is here on *my* dime, at *my* discretion! I am paying the bill tonight, and I refuse to pay a single cent for this extravagant nonsense!"
"You won't be paying for it," Connor replied flatly.
Paige jumped in, her voice dripping with venom. "You bet she won't! This is unbelievable! We come here expecting five-star service, and you deliberately disrespect the person holding the credit card? Do you know who my mother is? She is a founding member of the Oakridge Heritage Guild! I have over fifty thousand followers on my lifestyle blog! If you think I won't drag this restaurant’s name through the mud for defying paying customers, you have another thing coming!"
Greg nodded aggressively, trying to look intimidating. "You're a chef, pal. Your job is to cook what the paying customer tells you to cook, not pull PR stunts for toddlers. Send this back to the kitchen and bring my mother-in-law her sea bass."
Connor crossed his massive arms over his chest. A terrifyingly calm smile spread across his lips.
"First of all," Connor said, each word dripping with lethal precision, "no one threatens my staff or my kitchen. Second of all, Mrs. Vance, you haven't paid a single dime for anything yet. And third of all... you don't have the authority to decide who eats at Table Four."
"I don't have the authority?" Jolene sputtered, her chest heaving with rage. "I made the reservation! I am the head of this family! I hold the authority wherever I sit!"
"Not here, you don't," Connor said simply.
"And who is going to stop me? You?" Jolene sneered, pointing a trembling, manicured finger into Connor’s chest. "You're just the hired help with a fancy white jacket! I know how the restaurant business works. You answer to investors! You answer to the people who hold the money! Where is the general manager? Where is the real owner of this building? Get them out here right now, or I swear to God I will have this place shut down by the health department tomorrow morning!"
Connor didn't flinch. Instead, he let out a short, mocking laugh that echoed off the high brick walls.
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"You want to speak to the owner, Mrs. Vance?" Connor asked, his eyes glittering with dark amusement. "You want to talk to the majority shareholder who owns this building, owns every table, every chair, every piece of silverware you're touching, and holds sixty percent of the restaurant's operational voting stock?"
"Yes!" Jolene shrieked. "Get him out here right now!"
