Chapter 4 - The General Manager’s Protocol
My phone rang again, but this time, the display didn't flash a frantic family contact. It was Marcus Vance—no relation, but my hand-picked Director of Operations for Summit Bridge’s hospitality division.
I answered on the second ring. "Good evening, Marcus."
"Mr. Vance," Marcus’s voice was crisp, formal, and unmistakably professional, though I could hear the muted chaos of a ballroom echoing faintly in the background. "I apologize for disturbing you during what I assumed was your personal time at the wedding."
"I was informed at the door that my presence was not required," I said smoothly, leaning back against the leather booth. "The bride felt my profile wasn't conducive to the atmosphere."
A brief, sharp pause hung on the line. Marcus had worked with me for five years; he knew exactly how much calculation went into every move Summit Bridge made.
"I see," Marcus replied, his tone immediately dropping into operational mode. "That explains why Mr. Richard Thorne is currently screaming at our front desk staff, demanding immediate confirmation of the venue's leasing rights and claiming a private affiliation with our primary equity group. He is demanding to speak to the owner."
"What is their current contractual status?" I asked.
"The Thorne-Vance party signed the standard Tier-1 Private Event Contract," Marcus recited without hesitation. "Clause 14-B specifically mandates that any event host engaging in discriminatory behavior or unapproved removal of credentialed hosts or owners forfeits all security deposits, priority operational status, and incurs immediate termination of the building’s liquor and entertainment licensing at the discretion of the landlord."
"Is Clause 14-B enforceable tonight?"
"The ink is dry, sir," Marcus stated. "And the caterers are using our private cellar reserves, which were only unlocked under the assumption that the property principal was in attendance."
I watched the raindrops slide down the restaurant pane, reflecting the amber streetlights outside. "Cut the complimentary private reserves, Marcus. Bring out the house domestic tap. Dim the decorative chandelier array by fifty percent to comply with the standard non-member energy protocol. And inform Mr. Thorne that if he wishes to discuss the lease on his downtown corporate headquarters, my office opens at eight o'clock on Monday morning."
"Consider it done, Mr. Vance. Would you like me to dispatch security to clear the ballroom?"
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"No," I replied calmly. "Let them stay. Let them drink tap water under half-power lights. Let Lauren have every single minute of the wedding she paid for."
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