Interesting phrase after seven years of silence.
Still, I nodded.
“Of course. The dining room has space.”
I asked Celia to seat them near the window at one of our better tables because whatever history existed between us, I ran my hotel professionally.
I sent over bread.
Then I returned to work.
I checked the rehearsal dinner.
Handled a room-key problem.
Approved a last-minute dessert change upstairs.
For thirty minutes, I let myself hope that would be the end of it.
Then Celia found me near the kitchen.
“They’re asking for you again.”
When I reached their table, Dad sat with his arms crossed.
Mom’s bread roll was untouched.
Cassandra’s phone was finally face down.
Derek was gone.
Of course he was.
Upstairs with the important people.
“Sit down,” Dad said.
I remained standing.
“Is something wrong with the service?”
His mouth tightened.
“You could help us by behaving like a daughter instead of a hotel employee.”
A server passed behind me carrying two plates.
The silverware reflected the candlelight.
Mom reached out and touched my wrist like she still had permission.
“We just want to talk, baby. We’ve missed you.”
Seven years of silence, and the first lie arrived wrapped in sweetness.
I gently pulled my hand away.
“I’m working.”
Dad leaned forward.
“Derek is being made partner next month.”
I said nothing.
“That changes things for this family,” he continued. “Professionally. Socially. People will be watching how we present ourselves.”
Cassandra lifted her chin slightly.
“They’re looking at a house in Ardsley Park,” Dad went on. “A real house. Something appropriate for this next stage.”
And there it was.
Not an apology.
Not reconciliation.
An invoice.
Mom rushed in.
“We only need help bridging the gap until Derek’s bonus comes through.”
“How much?”
Dad didn’t blink.
“Sixty thousand.”
The table went silent.
Outside the window, Savannah continued without us.
A couple walked beneath the streetlamps.
The valet opened a car door.
Somewhere upstairs, strangers laughed over cocktails.
I looked straight at Dad.
“No.”
The word came out clean.
Something changed in his eyes.
“You own a hotel, Maya. Don’t tell me you don’t have it.”
“What I have isn’t the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“The last major financial decision this family made involving me was when my college fund disappeared without my knowledge.”
Mom looked down.
“Forty-two thousand dollars meant for my education went toward cleaning up Derek’s situation. I worked my way through school after that and built everything else myself.”
Cassandra stopped pretending not to listen.
Dad’s expression hardened.
