Chapter 2 - THE BOTTLE VANESSA BOUGHT FOR A PERFORMANCE
Vanessa drank half a glass before she started.
Not enough to be drunk.
Enough to make cruelty easier to excuse later.
Andrea approached with the main course.
Madison looked at her shoes.
“Those are depressing.”
Andrea set down a plate.
Ashley laughed.
“Maybe they’re orthopedic.”
Vanessa smiled.
“Do waitresses get a shoe allowance?”
Andrea answered evenly.
“No.”
“That’s tragic.”
Andrea moved to Madison’s place setting.
Vanessa asked:
“Do you know who my father was?”
Andrea paused.
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
Vanessa leaned back.
“Really?”
“Charles Monroe.”
Madison looked impressed.
Ashley said:
“See? Even the help knows.”
Andrea continued serving.
Vanessa watched her.
“What do you know about him?”
“That he invested in this restaurant years ago.”
“Invested.”
Vanessa repeated the word as though it smelled bad.
“My father saved this place.”
Andrea set down the last plate.
“I wasn’t working here then.”
“No. You were probably in middle school.”
Andrea smiled politely.
“Enjoy dinner.”
Vanessa grabbed her wrist.
Not hard.
Enough.
Andrea looked down.
Then at Vanessa.
Vanessa released her.
“My father owned part of Bellamy House.”
Andrea said:
“He sold his interest.”
Vanessa’s eyes sharpened.
“So you do know.”
Andrea realized.
This was not random humiliation.
Vanessa knew who she was.
Maybe not everything.
Enough.
Madison looked between them.
“What’s going on?”
Vanessa smiled.
“Nothing. Our waitress thinks she understands contracts.”
Andrea stepped back.
“You should enjoy your meal.”
Vanessa reached for the wine bottle.
“Actually, I think she should enjoy something too.”
Andrea saw the movement.
Too late.
Vanessa stood and tipped the bottle over Andrea’s head.
Cold red wine poured through her hair, down her face, into the collar of her uniform.
Madison and Ashley exploded with laughter.
The room went quiet around them.
Vanessa sneered:
“Perfect. Trash finally looks like trash.”
Andrea’s hands trembled.
Not with fear.
With the effort required not to react the way Vanessa wanted.
She wiped wine from her eyes.
Then smiled.
Cold.
Small.
“Trash really has no eye for value, huh?”
Vanessa’s laughter stopped.
“What did you say?”
She stormed inches from Andrea’s face.
Andrea looked straight back.
“You heard me.”
Vanessa pointed directly at her.
“You think because you carry expensive bottles you understand value?”
Andrea smiled faintly.
“No.”
Then several waitresses rushed from the back.
Mia first.
Then Sophie.
Jenna.
Claire.
They saw Andrea drenched in wine and froze.
Mia’s face went white.
“Oh my God! Who did this?!”
Andrea looked toward Vanessa.
Nothing else.
Mia turned.
Vanessa tried to laugh.
“She’s just a waitress!”
Every member of staff within hearing distance went still.
Mia’s face twisted.
“You poured wine on her?”
Vanessa’s confidence finally cracked.
Ashley stopped smiling.
Madison whispered:
“Vanessa…”
Two waitresses stepped closer.
Vanessa backed away.
Mia pointed toward her.
“Apologize.”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You work here.”
“So does she.”
Vanessa looked at Andrea.
Then back at Mia.
“And?”
Mia took another step.
“Head down.”
Sophie grabbed Vanessa’s shoulder only when Vanessa tried to push past her.
Mia caught the other arm.
They forced her forward just enough to stop her from leaving.
Andrea immediately said:
“Let go.”
Everyone froze.
Mia released Vanessa.
Sophie did too.
Andrea’s voice remained calm.
“No one touches a guest.”
Vanessa straightened quickly, humiliated and furious.
Andrea continued:
“But she’s no longer a guest.”
The general manager, Peter Lang, appeared from the back office.
He saw Andrea.
Then Vanessa.
Then the broken social order around table twelve.
His face changed.
“Ms. Monroe.”
Vanessa pointed at Andrea.
“Fire her.”
Peter looked almost confused.
“No.”
“What?”
“You need to leave.”
Vanessa laughed.
“Do you know how much I spend here?”
Andrea answered before Peter could.
“Less than the payroll you just insulted.”
Vanessa stared.
Then the envelope in her handbag slipped partly into view again.
Andrea saw the words printed beneath the Bellamy Holdings logo.
SPECIAL SHAREHOLDER MEETING.
Her stomach tightened.
May you like
Vanessa had been invited to a meeting Andrea did not know existed.
And suddenly the wine mattered less than the paper.
