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.
