Chapter 3 - The Manager's Visit and the Corporate Shark
The first course—a delicate heirloom tomato carpaccio with burrata and aged balsamic reduction—had just been served when the general manager of Pierce & Alder approached our table.
His name was Julian. He had been a sycophantic junior floor manager nine years ago when Logan threw money at my face, and he had watched the entire scene with the spineless cowardice of a man terrified of losing his tips. Now, wearing a tailored manager’s suit with a gold lapel pin, he approached our booth with a look of extreme corporate anxiety plastered across his face.
"Good evening, Mr. Vance, Mrs... Vance—" Julian began, stumbling over my name before catching himself. "Ah, Miss Vance. And... welcome to Pierce & Alder, young man."
Marcus didn't even look up from his carpaccio. He speared a tomato slice, chewed slowly, and swallowed before speaking. "Julian. You've put on weight. And it looks like your spine has gotten even softer since the last time I saw you cowering behind the hostess stand while your boss threw cash at a pregnant nurse."
Julian’s face flushed a deep, embarrassing crimson. He glanced nervously around the dining room to ensure nearby diners weren't listening. "Mr. Vance, please. That was... that was a private matter from the past. Mr. Pierce and Mrs. Evelyn requested that I... well, they wanted me to offer you complimentary champagne. And perhaps... an escort to a private VIP dining room upstairs, away from the main floor."
"Complimentary champagne?" Marcus let out a sharp, bark-like laugh. "Tell Logan and his mother that we don't drink poison offered by snakes. And we like our table right here. It has a wonderful view of the dining room—especially the part where everyone can watch Logan sweat through his four-thousand-dollar suit."
"Sir, please," Julian pleaded, lowering his voice to a desperate hiss. "Mr. Pierce is beside himself. Mrs. Evelyn is threatening to call legal counsel—"
"Go ahead," I interrupted, setting my fork down with a soft clink that made Julian jump. I looked up at him, my gaze cold and unyielding. "Tell Evelyn to call her lawyers. In fact, remind her that my brother is a senior partner at Vance & Sterling, and we specialize in unearthing hidden corporate liabilities, tax discrepancies, and wage-theft violations in high-end hospitality groups. We would love an audit of Pierce & Alder."
Julian turned the color of skim milk. He knew—as did anyone who followed San Diego business news—that Pierce & Alder was currently in the middle of securing a massive multi-million-dollar expansion loan for two new locations in Los Angeles and Las Vegas. An invasive financial audit or a high-profile family scandal would instantly tank their investor backing.
"I... I will relay your message," Julian stammered, backing away slowly as if walking away from a live grenade.
Leo watched him leave, tilting his head. "Mom, why does everyone here act like you're a superhero and they're the bad guys in a movie?"
Marcus chuckled, pouring sparkling water into Leo’s glass. "Because your mother is a superhero, kiddo. She survived the worst storm imaginable, built an empire of her own, and now she’s watching the villains realize they built their castle on sand."
"My mom is the best," Leo agreed happily, taking a bite of his bread.
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Across the room, the tension at Logan’s table was reaching a boiling point. Evelyn was standing up, her face twisted with fury, grabbing her Chanel handbag. She shot one venomous glare across the room toward our booth, a look promising war, before storming out through the private back exit.
Logan remained seated, his hands clenched into tight fists on the table, staring at us with a look of agonizing, desperate longing.
