At the top floor, his assistant was already waiting outside his office.
"Good morning, Mr. Halston."
"Good morning. Did you find anything else?"
Jessica followed him inside.
"Yes. I've reviewed the publicly available records and spoken with our external research team."
Richard placed his briefcase on the desk.
"Go on."
"The Grant Hospitality Trust remains active. Eleanor Grant is listed as its principal representative. The trust's exact financial position is not publicly disclosed, but it appears to retain a significant interest in the Grand Aurelia's founding structure."
"How significant?"
"We can't establish a reliable current valuation without the underlying documents."
Richard walked to the window.
"Does it own the restaurant?"
"That question is more complicated than it sounds. The operating company has its own ownership structure. The trust appears to retain specific rights under the founding agreements, but those rights are not the same as ordinary day-to-day ownership."
Richard turned.
"Could she remove the current management?"
"Not simply by asking. It would depend on the agreements, the circumstances, and the relevant legal procedures."
"Could she influence the board?"
"Potentially, within the limits of the trust's authority."
Richard considered that.
"And Riverside?"
"I found no verified evidence that the trust has a direct financial interest in the Riverside development."
"Then why was she asking about the restaurant's staff?"
Jessica hesitated.
"Perhaps because the restaurant's operation is the reason she was there."
Richard gave her a sharp look.
"Don't speculate."
"I'm sorry."
He returned to his desk.
"What else?"
"The independent attorney who met her last night is Thomas Reed. His firm has handled governance reviews for several charitable organizations and hospitality companies."
"I know the name."
"He's known for being careful with conflicts of interest. I couldn't find any indication that he represents Halston Capital or has worked on Riverside."
Richard tapped a finger against the desk.
"So he is investigating the restaurant."
"Possibly."
"Possibly?"
"We don't know what the documents concern."
Richard sat down.
He wanted certainty.
Instead, every new fact created another unanswered question.
He opened the email from Michael Avery.
The subject line read:
Riverside Development — Next Steps
The message was brief.
Michael thanked Richard for the previous evening's discussion, then explained that his investment committee would pause its review until it had received additional information about Halston Capital's governance practices and its proposed approach to community relations.
He did not mention Eleanor.
He did not mention the restaurant.
But Richard understood the connection.
Michael had witnessed the confrontation and had begun asking questions about the way Richard exercised judgment.
Now those questions were entering a formal business process.
Richard leaned back.
"This is absurd."
Jessica stood quietly beside the desk.
"Would you like me to draft a response?"
"No."
"Should I arrange a call with Mr. Avery?"
"Not yet."
He looked at the email again.
Michael was not an ordinary investor. He had access to capital that could support several phases of the Riverside project. His involvement would make it easier for Halston Capital to attract other partners.
Losing him would not destroy the project.
But it would make the project more difficult.
Richard had spent months presenting Riverside as evidence that his company could move beyond traditional real-estate acquisitions and build developments with long-term community value.
The proposal promised affordable commercial spaces for local businesses, improvements to public walkways, and a new community center near the river.
Those commitments were important to the investors.
They were also important to the public narrative surrounding the project.
Richard knew how to talk about responsibility.
He had given speeches about it.
He had quoted economists and urban planners. He had described the importance of trust, transparency, and sustainable development.
He had never considered that someone might judge those words by the way he treated an elderly woman at a restaurant.
Jessica cleared her throat.
"There's one more thing."
Richard looked up.
"What?"
"Mr. Avery's office requested copies of our internal policies concerning staff conduct, guest relations, and complaints."
Richard's expression changed.
"Why?"
"They said the request was part of their governance review."
"That's ridiculous."
"Should I tell them we won't provide the documents?"
Richard considered the consequences.
Refusing might make the request more significant than it was. Complying might invite further questions.
"Send the policies," he said finally. "Have legal review them first."
"Understood."
"And Jessica?"
"Yes?"
"Do not mention the Grand Aurelia in any communication with the investors."
She paused.
"Of course."
When she left, Richard remained alone in his office.
He looked at the city through the glass.
From the fifty-second floor, the streets appeared orderly. Cars moved through intersections. Pedestrians crossed at the lights. Construction cranes turned slowly above distant buildings.
Everything seemed manageable from that height.
Richard had always liked the view.
It reminded him that complicated problems could be reduced to plans, budgets, schedules, and decisions.
But the previous evening had revealed a kind of problem that resisted his usual methods.
He could not buy his way into Eleanor's confidence.
He could not demand information from Thomas Reed.