Chapter 8 - Sweeping the Floor
Julian turned to the security guards. “Escort Mr. Gregory Vance off the property. If he sets foot inside any Vance establishment again, have him arrested for criminal trespassing.”
The two guards seized Gregory by the arms.
“Julian! Eleanor! You can’t do this!” Gregory screamed, thrashing wildly as his designer shoes scraped against the polished floor. “I’m blood! We’re family! You’re ruining me!”
The front doors swung open into the rainy night, and Gregory was unceremoniously shoved out onto the wet sidewalk, his camel-hair coat splattered with puddle water. The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind him, locking with a final, echoing thud.
The dining room went still once more.
Anna Thompson remained huddled against the marble pillar, trembling, her face wet with mascara streaks. She looked up at Julian like a condemned prisoner waiting for the executioner's axe.
“And you, Anna,” Julian said, walking toward her.
Anna dropped to her knees, sobbing openly. “Mr. Vance, please! I will do anything! I will apologize publicly! I will scrub the floors! Just don't ruin my career! Don't blacklist me from the industry!”
“You blacklisted yourself the moment you forgot that service is an act of humility,” Julian said. “You will not be scrubbed into obscurity, Anna. You will face the full weight of the labor board investigations. Marcus will file a formal complaint detailing your extortion of the tip pool and systemic discrimination against patrons. You will never manage another dining room as long as you live.”
Julian pointed toward the back exit. “Leave through the kitchen. Hand your badge and keys to the dishwasher on your way out.”
Anna didn't say another word. She scrambled to her feet, shielding her face with her hands, and fled down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen exit, her high heels clattering against the tile until the swinging doors muffled the sound of her departure.
Julian let out a long, heavy breath. He turned to the kitchen staff and servers who were still standing in stunned silence.
“Maria,” Julian called out.
The young server stepped forward, wiping her eyes with her apron. “Yes, Mr. Vance?”
Julian looked at her with genuine respect. “Starting tomorrow morning, you are promoted to Floor Manager. Your first duty will be to completely overhaul the customer service training manual. Every single guideline that Anna Thompson or Gregory implemented is to be shredded and burned. And your wages will double, effective immediately.”
Maria’s mouth dropped open. “Mr. Vance... I—I don't know what to say. Thank you so much!”
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“Don't thank me,” Julian smiled warmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Thank Eleanor Vance. She was the one who reminded us who we are.”
A chorus of quiet applause erupted from the kitchen staff, growing louder until the entire remaining team was clapping and cheering, tears of relief and joy flowing freely among the workers who had lived under Anna and Gregory’s reign of terror for months.
