Chapter 6
Mark looked from Amber to his mother.
“I’ll step outside,” he said.
Amber’s shoulders tightened, as if she’d expected him to stay. But she gave a short nod.
“Please.”
Mark paused at the doorway.
“Mom?”
Evelyn met his eyes. “Give us a little time.”
He left without arguing. The door remained open behind him, and Amber glanced at it.
“Do you want it closed?” Evelyn asked.
“No.” Amber clasped her hands in front of her. “I don’t want this to look like some secret conversation.”
“Then we can leave it open.”
For a moment, Amber seemed unsure how to begin. Then her face settled into a careful expression Evelyn recognized from business lunches and charity photographs: composed, pleasant, ready to make the right impression.
“I want to apologize for what happened in the lobby,” Amber said. “I’m sorry I spoke to you that way. It was disrespectful, and you didn’t deserve it.”
The words were smooth. They were also better than the first apology, which had asked Evelyn to accept that Amber hadn’t meant it.
Evelyn waited.
Amber’s smile faltered. “I know I’ve made this difficult.”
“What, exactly, are you apologizing for?”
Amber drew in a breath. “For calling you—”
She stopped.
“For treating me as though I were beneath you?” Evelyn asked.
Amber’s cheeks colored. “Yes.”
“And for saying it in front of the people who work here?”
“I’m sorry about the scene.”
“That isn’t quite the same thing.”
Amber’s fingers pressed together. “I know.”
Evelyn leaned back in her chair. She didn’t want to punish Amber with silence, but she wouldn’t rescue her from it, either.
Amber glanced toward the open doorway, then back at Evelyn.
“I’ve been thinking about the company,” she said. “About how hard you’ve worked. And how much it would mean for the family to stay together through all of this.”
There it was: the polished apology, followed by a careful mention of what Evelyn might decide.
“Stay together how?” Evelyn asked.
“I mean, it would be good for everyone if Mark could be part of what comes next. If you trusted him.”
“Is this still an apology?”
Amber’s eyes widened. “I’m not asking you to make a decision right now.”
“You’ve connected your apology to my company.”
“I only meant that we’re family.”
“Family isn’t a reason to overlook how you treat people. And it isn’t a qualification for leading a company.”
Amber’s mouth tightened. For an instant, Evelyn saw anger rise; then Amber swallowed it.
Evelyn kept her voice level. “Are you sorry for humiliating me, or are you afraid my response could affect what you and Mark receive?”
“I don’t know what we’d receive.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Amber looked down at her hands. “I wanted people to think I was important.”
The admission came out smaller than the rest.
Evelyn waited.
“I wanted the penthouse. I wanted the staff to know we weren’t ordinary guests.” Amber’s gaze lifted, but only briefly. “I thought if I acted like I belonged at the top, people would treat me that way.”
“And calling me the maid helped?”
“No.” Amber looked away. “It made me feel like I was the one in control.”
The room went quiet.
“That’s honest,” Evelyn said. “It doesn’t make what you did harmless.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Amber’s eyes returned to hers. “You were embarrassed.”
“I was. But embarrassment wasn’t the only harm.”
Amber started to answer, then stopped. Her hands opened and closed once.
“I don’t know what else to say,” she admitted.
“Then don’t rush to say something that sounds good.”
Amber’s jaw worked. “I made you seem like someone people could disrespect.”
“And what did the people who work here hear?”
Amber had no immediate answer. Her eyes dropped again.
“I don’t know,” she said at last.
“You called me a maid as though that made the insult worse. People here do work that keeps this place running. There is nothing shameful about that. But you used the word to make me smaller.”
Amber’s face flushed. “I didn’t think about them.”
“I believe you.”
It wasn’t forgiveness. Evelyn made sure her voice didn’t suggest it was.
Amber looked toward the bright slice of hallway beyond the doorway. “You must think I’m awful.”
“I think you did something cruel. I don’t know everything you are.”
The answer seemed to unsettle her more than condemnation would have.
“What am I supposed to do?” Amber asked.
“You’re supposed to decide what you believe about other people when there’s nothing to gain by being kind.”
Amber’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak.
Evelyn stood and moved toward the window. Below, the pool glittered in the late-morning sun. Guests crossed the terrace with towels over their shoulders. A server passed with a tray held steady in both hands.
“I’m not going to tell you your apology is sincere,” Evelyn said. “That’s yours to prove, and not to me alone.”
Amber stayed seated. “So I should just leave?”
“You can. Or you can take some time and think. But not because you’re waiting for me to reward the right answer.”
A moment later, Amber rose.
“I’ll think about what you said.”
“I hope you do.”
Amber paused at the doorway. “Evelyn, I am sorry.”
Evelyn didn’t make her repeat it, and she didn’t tell her it was enough.
“Thank you for saying so.”
Amber left. Mark waited outside, leaning against the wall. He straightened when he saw her.
“Did it go okay?” he asked.
Amber looked at him. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to talk?”
“Not yet.”
She walked toward the elevators. Mark glanced through the open doorway at his mother, but Evelyn gave him no signal to follow. He stayed where he was.
Later, Evelyn went down to the lobby to check in with Sarah. She found the front-desk manager helping a guest whose reservation had been entered under the wrong date. The guest’s voice sharpened as Sarah calmly explained the options.
Amber stood several feet away, waiting by the edge of the desk.
When Sarah offered to check another room, the guest scoffed.
“This is ridiculous. Is anyone here capable of doing a simple job?”
Sarah’s expression stayed professional, but Evelyn saw the strain around her eyes.
Amber shifted her weight.
For a second, she looked ready to cut in—to insist, perhaps, that the guest be quiet or that Sarah fix the problem faster. Instead, she stepped back, giving Sarah room to continue.
“I understand this is frustrating,” Sarah said. “Let me see what I can do.”
The guest muttered something under his breath. Amber’s hands curled at her sides, then relaxed.
She waited until he had turned toward the seating area and Sarah had finished checking the reservation.
“Sarah,” Amber said.
Sarah looked up. “Yes, ma’am?”
Amber’s face changed. The words she’d prepared seemed to have deserted her.
“I—” she began.
A bell chimed at the desk. Another guest stepped forward with a question, and Sarah turned to help.
Amber stopped. She could have left. Instead, she waited, watching Sarah listen to the new guest.
When Sarah looked back, Amber was still there.
May you like
“Can I help you with something?” Sarah asked.
Amber drew a breath. “Yes. I need to ask you something—but not while you’re working.”
