“Don’t what, sweetheart?”
“Don’t embarrass us.”
I looked down at my stained dress.
“Daniel, I think that part has already been taken care of.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“Oh, wonderful. Here comes the speech!”
But I wasn’t giving a speech.
I lifted the microphone.
“Please ask the hotel manager to come in.”
When he entered, he looked from the newlyweds to me.
His expression changed.
“Mrs. Eleanor,” he said respectfully. “Is everything all right?”
“Not exactly.”
Daniel frowned.
“Wait. You know my mother?”
“Of course I do,” the manager replied.
I leaned toward him.
“Please proceed with the instruction we discussed.”
He nodded, then turned toward the wedding planner.
“Shall I bring the documents, ma’am?”
“Yes, please.”
Vanessa grabbed Daniel’s arm.
“Documents? What documents?”
The manager opened a folder.
And when Daniel saw the heading on the hotel agreement, he turned pale.
“Mom… why is your name on the hotel agreement?”
I looked at the page he was holding.
Across the top, beneath the hotel’s name, were the words:
PRIVATE EVENT AGREEMENT — CLIENT OF RECORD: ELEANOR.
Below that was my signature.
