Chapter 10: The Card That Didn't Work
The foundation tower downtown had a ballroom that wasn't really a ballroom, not the way Mom and I thought of it. It was on the twelfth floor with windows that looked out over the highway and a wall of donors' names etched in glass. Caterers in black shirts moved around with trays, and two county deputies stood by the elevator in soft gray uniforms, not there to be scary, just there. I wore my pink dress again because Mom had steamed it that morning, and my white socks made a soft sound on the carpet.
Mom kept my hand the whole time we walked in through the side entrance where the staff checked in. Mr. Balanki had told her we would come as family, but Mom still went to the staff table first and signed her name on a clipboard. I saw him across the room then, at the edge of the ballroom near the bar. He was still in his black double-breasted suit with the white pocket square, and the man in the tuxedo from dinner stood beside him. Neither of them looked at us. They looked at the hallway that led to the private dressing suites.
Selene came through the main elevator a few minutes after we did. Her black satin gown caught the light every time she moved and her clutch was tucked under one arm. Her hair was still in the low bun and her diamond pendant sat perfect in the middle of her chest. She didn't look at me or Mom either. She walked straight to the small check-in desk outside the dressing suite hallway.
There was a woman there in a navy blazer with a foundation lanyard. She had a tablet and a little scanner box on the table beside her. A rope stanchion made a line where you were supposed to wait. Selene stepped up and smiled the way she had at the dinner table, and I heard her voice even over the band warming up.
"Selene Marris, for the private suite," she said. She opened her clutch and took out the small cream card. I recognized the color. It was the same cream as the plates at Location X, with a thin gold edge.
She placed it on the scanner.
The woman picked it up, polite, and tapped her tablet. The scanner made a soft red beep. Not green. Red. The woman's smile didn't change but she tilted her head a little.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, this card isn't scanning for suite access," she said, quiet. "General ballroom seating is straight ahead, your place card is at table two beside Mr. Balanki."
Selene didn't move her hand off the desk. "Try it again. He gave it to me himself this afternoon. He said it was for the dressing suite."
The woman tried again. She turned the card over, scanned the back, then checked something on her tablet. Same red beep. A second staffer, a young man with a headset, leaned in to look. He didn't say anything, just nodded once at the woman.
"There's no valid suite authorization tied to this card number," the woman said, even softer now. "It may be an older donor card. I can walk you to your ballroom seat and we can have Mr. Balanki confirm when he's free."
That was when Selene made the little scene without raising her voice. She laughed, a short breath, and pressed her lips together. "That's impossible. He told me specifically this was the private access. Ask him. Please, call him over. He'll tell you."
She kept her clutch open on the desk and the card sat there between them. People going past to the ballroom started to glance over. Not stare, just a quick look and then away. The deputies by the elevator didn't move. The band started playing something low on a piano.
From where I stood by Mom near the water station, I could see Mr. Balanki clearly. He had his hands in his pockets. The man in the tuxedo said something to him and Mr. Balanki shook his head just once. He didn't walk over. He stayed where he was and watched. I felt Mom squeeze my hand a little tighter. She understood what he was doing before I did. He was letting the desk do its job so no one could say later it was just his word against Selene's.
The woman at the desk didn't call him. She followed her script. "Of course, I can send a note to Mr. Balanki's table for clarification. In the meantime, for security we can't hold the suite hallway. Would you like me to hold the card here at the desk?"
Selene's fingers curled around her clutch. She picked the card back up, like she was protecting it, and then she changed her story. It was fast and smooth, like she'd thought of it before.
"You know what, I left the real one at the estate," she said, closing her clutch with both hands. "This is my personal donor card from last year. My suite card is in my other clutch at home. I must have grabbed the wrong one. Could you call Mr. Balanki to verify I'm supposed to have suite access tonight? He'll vouch."
The woman nodded, professional, and wrote something on a small notepad. "I'll have the floor manager alert Mr. Balanki. Your ballroom seat is reserved regardless, Mrs. Marris. Would you like to wait at your table?"
May you like
Selene looked toward the ballroom, then toward the hallway she hadn't been allowed into. Mr. Balanki was still standing by the bar, now looking directly at her. He lifted his eyebrows once, not a smile. The man in the tuxedo turned his shoulder so he was clearly a witness to what had happened. Selene held her clutch with both hands in front of her, the way she had at the end of dinner, and didn't move toward her table right away.
Mom bent down and whispered to me, "Let's get you some water," and led me toward the ballroom. I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. The staff had the card number, they had the red beep, and they had Selene's own words on their notepad that Mr. Balanki had given her a card that didn't work.
