Chapter 4 - Justice Served
The chaos that followed was swift and clinical.
Paramedics arrived within minutes, gently cleaning and bandaging Sophie’s temple. Fortunately, the cut was superficial and didn’t require stitches, though the ugly purple bruise forming beneath it served as a stark reminder of what had happened.
Mr. Sterling personally escorted us to his private office on the top floor of the hotel, bypassing the lingering crowd of guests in the lobby.
The office was vast, quiet, and smelled of aged leather and expensive cedar. A large mahogany desk sat before a wall of windows overlooking the city skyline, the afternoon sun casting a warm, golden glow across the room.
“I am profoundly sorry, Ms. Hayes,” Mr. Sterling said, pouring a cup of warm chamomile tea and handing it to Sophie, who clutched it with both hands. “What happened in that ballroom is completely unacceptable. No employee, and certainly no child, should ever be subjected to such cruelty under my roof.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sterling,” I said, keeping my posture rigid. “My contract with the hotel stated my team would be compensated for our time, but given the circumstances, I am terminating our services effective immediately. My invoice for the two weeks of preparation is on my clipboard downstairs.”
Mr. Sterling held up a hand, a faint, respectful smile touching the corners of his mouth. “Your invoice has already been processed, Ms. Hayes. In full. Plus a one-hundred-percent hazard and emotional distress bonus.”
He slid a heavy check across the desk. I glanced down at the numbers and blinked. It was more money than my small catering and event-planning business made in six months.
“I can’t accept this,” I started, but he cut me off.
“You can, and you will,” he said firmly. “Furthermore, I am cutting all commercial ties with the Vance family trust effective immediately. All future events hosted by our hotels in this region will be vetted through my office—and if you are willing, Ms. Hayes, I would like to retain your agency as our exclusive corporate event planner on a three-year retainer contract.”
I stared at him, stunned. A three-year corporate retainer with the St. Clair Hotel group would secure my business for years, allowing me to hire a full-time staff, rent a proper commercial kitchen, and never have to worry about childcare falling through again.
“Why?” I asked cautiously. “There are hundreds of larger planning firms in the city.”
May you like
Mr. Sterling leaned back in his leather chair, his gray eyes softening as he looked at Sophie, who was quietly sipping her tea.
“Because I watched you stand your ground against bullies who thought they owned the world,” Mr. Sterling said quietly. “And because a mother who protects her child with that kind of unyielding grace is exactly the kind of person I want representing my brand.”
