Chapter 7 - THE GATHERING STORM
The grand ballroom of the Drake Hotel was transformed into a glittering spectacle of crystal, gold, and white lilies. The Carter Foundation Gala was everything I remembered it to be: pretentious, excessively lavish, and filled with people who judged your worth by the designer of your shoes.
But tonight, I wasn't the timid, out-of-place wife of a billionaire. I was the boss.
My catering team moved with military precision. We had prepared a menu that flawlessly merged high-end culinary art with the wholesome, organic roots of my business. Truffle-infused wild mushroom tartlets, seared scallops with a sweet corn purée, and an array of desserts that looked like they belonged in a museum.
I stood near the kitchen doors, wearing a sleek, tailored black pantsuit that commanded respect. My earpiece buzzed with updates from my staff. Everything was running smoothly.
Until Eleanor Carter decided to make an appearance.
She glided into the kitchen, wearing a ruby-red gown that made her look like royalty. Olivia was right behind her, clinging to her arm like a desperate parasite. When Eleanor saw me, her perfectly sculpted face contorted into a mask of pure disgust.
"What is the meaning of this?" Eleanor demanded, her voice cutting through the noise of the clattering pans. "I explicitly told the event coordinator to hire a Michelin-starred chef, not a glorified lunch lady."
"The coordinator quit, Mother," Sebastian's voice rang out from the hallway. He stepped into the kitchen, looking devastatingly handsome in his tuxedo. "I took over the catering decisions. Hannah's company is the best in the city. The guests are already raving about the appetizers."
Eleanor’s eyes darted between Sebastian and me, realizing the trap she had walked into. "You're making a spectacle of yourself, Sebastian. Bringing your... past... into my event."
"Your event?" Sebastian countered, his voice dangerously low. "The foundation is in my name, Mother. I write the checks."
Olivia stepped forward, trying to play the peacemaker. "Darling, please. People are staring. We don't want a scene. Hannah, surely you understand how inappropriate it is for you to be here. Take your little staff and leave through the service elevator. We'll order food from the hotel."
I smiled politely. "I have a contract, Olivia. I'm afraid you'll just have to endure my presence."
Eleanor scoffed, stepping closer to me. "You think you're so clever, don't you? You think parading yourself in front of my son with those bastards will secure you a payday. I warned you, Hannah. After tonight, you will never work in this city again."
"Is that a promise, Eleanor?" I asked, my voice calm, projecting just enough for the waitstaff nearby to hear.
"It is a guarantee," she hissed.
"Good to know," I replied, tapping my earpiece. "Maria, prep the main course. We serve in ten minutes."
I walked past them, ignoring the absolute fury radiating from the two women. The main event was about to begin. The speeches were scheduled right before dessert. Eleanor always gave the closing remarks, projecting the image of the perfect philanthropic matriarch.
May you like
I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing against the cold metal of the USB drive. I had already spoken to the AV technician, a college kid who was more than happy to accept a generous "tip" to switch out the ambient background music track on my cue.
The storm was fully gathered. It was time to let the lightning strike.
