“Management discretion.”
“Whose discretion?”
Derek tapped the counter with one finger.
“Mine, at the moment.”
Thomas looked at his name badge.
“Derek Collins. Would you please tell me whether my reservation is valid?”
Derek's jaw tightened.
He knew it was valid.
He also knew that admitting it would make his earlier comments look foolish.
Pride won.
“Your booking is under review.”
“By whom?”
“Management.”
“Then I'd like to speak with management.”
Derek gave a short, contemptuous laugh.
“You think the general manager is going to come downstairs because you don't like my answer?”
Thomas retrieved his phone.
“I suppose we'll find out.”
He opened his contacts.
Before he could place the call, Derek reached across the counter and pointed at the screen.
“Don't start recording me.”
“I'm not recording.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Calling someone.”
“If you're going to complain, I can give you the corporate number.”
“That won't be necessary.”
Derek folded his arms.
“People like you always threaten to call someone important.”
Thomas looked at him.
“People like me?”
Derek smiled.
“You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately for Derek, Thomas did.
He had spent decades watching how easily people with temporary authority confused it with permanent importance.
He also knew that a person's character became clearest when that person believed there would be no consequences.
Thomas placed the call.
Michael answered on the second ring.
“Good morning, Thomas.”
“Michael, I'm at the Grand Meridian.”
“Everything all right?”
“Not quite.”
There was a pause.
“What's happened?”
“I'd like you to come over.”
Michael immediately understood the seriousness of the request.
“Do you want the security team?”
“Not yet. Bring the documents we discussed.”
“All of them?”
“Yes. And ask Daniel to join us.”
Daniel Reeves was the company's director of internal investigations, a former federal financial examiner who had joined Anderson Hospitality after uncovering procurement fraud at a large national chain.
Michael lowered his voice.
“Thomas, have you found something?”
Thomas looked toward Derek, who was openly mocking him to Melissa.
“I think we're about to.”
“I'll be there.”
Thomas ended the call.
Derek gave an exaggerated sigh.
“Well, I hope your friend has enough money to help you.”
Thomas slipped the phone into his pocket.
“So do I.”
Derek laughed again.
But this time, Melissa did not join him.
She had noticed something in the old man's expression.
He was not frightened.
He was not confused.
And he was certainly not behaving like someone who had accidentally wandered into the wrong hotel.
He seemed almost painfully disappointed.
Melissa had worked at the Grand Meridian for eleven years.
She remembered a time when the front desk had felt like a family.
Employees knew returning guests by name. Housekeepers received handwritten thank-you cards. The general manager personally greeted families celebrating important milestones.
Things had changed after a new regional operations director, Richard Vale, took control.
Vale was known for raising revenue and reducing costs.
He had introduced aggressive performance targets, premium guest classifications, and a complicated set of incentive payments.
Employees who generated the highest room revenue received bonuses.
Employees who questioned the new policies were accused of resisting modernization.
Melissa had witnessed troubling incidents.
She had seen an elderly couple moved to a smaller room after a conference guest offered to pay more.
She had watched a disabled veteran argue for the accessible room he had reserved months earlier.
She had heard Derek mock guests who arrived in inexpensive clothing.
At first, she had challenged him.
Then he received public praise from Vale for increasing average room rates.
Her own supervisor warned her to stop interfering.
“You're here to serve the business,” the supervisor said. “Not rescue every unhappy customer.”
Melissa needed her job.
Her husband had been injured in a construction accident, and their teenage daughter's college applications were approaching.
So she learned to stay quiet.
Every silence made the next one easier.
Until that morning.
As Thomas stood before the desk, she remembered Evelyn Parker.
She had been working the afternoon Evelyn arrived.
Melissa had found the reservation, but Derek's supervisor instructed her to mark it as canceled.
An international business traveler was willing to pay three times the original room rate.
Evelyn's booking stood in the way.
Melissa had done what she was told.
She had watched the widow leave.
And for weeks afterward, she had thought about the small silver photograph frame Evelyn carried in her purse.
Now, looking at Thomas, Melissa felt the familiar weight of shame.
She began to speak.
“Mr. Collins, perhaps we should—”
Derek cut her off.
“Melissa, I've got this.”
Thomas turned toward her.
“Have we met before?”
She shook her head.
“No, sir.”
“You look as though you want to say something.”
Derek straightened.
“She doesn't.”
Melissa looked at the computer screen.
Then at Thomas.
“Your reservation is valid,” she said.
The words came out softly.
Derek froze.
“What?”
She swallowed.
“His reservation is valid. It's prepaid, and we have an available room.”
The lobby seemed to become quieter.
Thomas looked at her with gratitude.
“Thank you.”
Derek's face flushed.
“I already told you it's under review.”
Melissa's hands trembled.
“There's no review hold in the system.”
“Then put one in.”
She stared at him.