Maya, my general manager, intercepted me before I could go any further.
“Claire.”
“What happened?”
“Your mother-in-law booked the room again.”
The word again landed heavy.
“She called from a blocked number. Said you approved it.”
“Did she sign anything?”
“No contract. No deposit. But we have emails confirming everything—menu, wine, guests, valet, flowers.”
“How many people?”
“Fifty-two.”
“And she’s still adding things.”
I closed my eyes for a second.
“Where’s Ethan?”
“At work.”
He had no idea.
Three nights earlier, Evelyn had done the same thing.
She said it would be a small family dinner.
It turned into thirty-two guests.
She ordered everything—the most expensive seafood, premium wines, extra courses.
She smiled, laughed, entertained.
At the end of the night, she hugged me.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll have my assistant wire it tomorrow.”
