Eleanor smiled.
"Tell me."
Mateo wiped his hands on a towel.
"The new purchasing plan replaces three local suppliers with one national distributor. The prices look better on paper, but the delivery windows are tighter. The produce isn't as consistent. The fish arrives frozen more often than fresh."
"Have you raised the issue?"
"Twice."
"And?"
"They told me the numbers would work themselves out."
Eleanor looked at the shelves.
"What about the employees?"
Mateo's expression changed.
"That's worse."
He pointed toward a row of lockers.
"Some of these people have been here longer than I have. They know the regular guests, the suppliers, the building. They're not just names on a payroll report."
"How many positions are at risk?"
"Twenty-seven in the first restructuring plan."
Eleanor closed her eyes briefly.
"Twenty-seven."
"Some are part-time. Some are full-time. But people have families."
"I know."
Mateo looked at her.
"Are you going to stop it?"
Eleanor did not answer immediately.
"I am going to make sure the decision is made with the truth in front of everyone."
Mateo nodded.
"That's all I can ask."
A young server named Lena Brooks entered carrying a tray of clean glasses.
She stopped when she saw Eleanor.
"Mrs. Grant?"
"Hello, Lena."
Lena smiled.
"I didn't know you were coming today."
"I wanted to see how everyone was doing."
Lena placed the tray on the counter.
"Are you staying for lunch?"
"Only if you have something simple."
"Mateo will make sure you eat properly."
"I was hoping he would."
Lena laughed.
Then she looked down.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Is it true they're going to change the restaurant?"
Eleanor studied her.
"Why do you ask?"
"People are worried. Some of us have heard that the new owners want to replace the staff with an outside service company."
"Who told you that?"
"I heard it from someone in the office."
Eleanor nodded slowly.
"Have you been asked to sign anything?"
"No."
"Then don't sign anything you don't understand. If someone gives you a document, ask for time to read it. You have that right."
Lena nodded.
"Thank you."
Eleanor looked at the young woman.
"How long have you worked here?"
"Two years."
"And do you like it?"
Lena smiled.
"I love it."
"Why?"
Lena thought for a moment.
"Because my mother used to work here."
Eleanor looked surprised.
"Your mother?"
"Marisol Brooks. She was a dishwasher, then a prep cook. She left when I was little, but she always talked about this place."
Eleanor's expression softened.
"Marisol."
"You remember her?"
"Very well."
Lena looked delighted.
"She says you once paid for her nursing classes."
Eleanor smiled.
"She was a wonderful employee."
"She became a nurse. She works at St. Mary's now."
"That makes me happy."
Lena hesitated.
"She also says that when she first came here, she couldn't afford the bus fare home."
Eleanor looked toward Mateo.
"Thomas used to keep a small envelope in the office. It was for anyone who needed help getting home."
"She said you gave her the money without asking why."
Eleanor nodded.
"People should not have to explain every hardship before someone offers them kindness."
Lena's eyes glistened.
"That's what she always said."
For a moment, the kitchen seemed warmer.
Then the door opened.
Richard Halston entered with two members of his investment team.
He looked around with visible discomfort.
"Julian said I could find Mrs. Grant here."
Eleanor turned.
"Here I am."
Richard glanced at Mateo and Lena.
"Could we speak privately?"
"Of course."
Eleanor thanked Mateo and followed Richard toward the small office adjoining the kitchen.
Once the door closed, Richard placed a document on the desk.
"I've prepared a proposal."
Eleanor did not touch it.
"What kind?"
"A financial arrangement that would compensate the trust for relinquishing its special approval rights."
"How much?"
Richard named a figure.
It was enormous.
A figure that could have changed the lives of dozens of people.
Eleanor looked at the paper.
Then she looked at Richard.
"How did you calculate it?"
"Based on the projected value of the property and the business."
"Did you include the value of the employees?"
Richard frowned.
"That's not how valuations work."
"Did you include the value of the suppliers who depend on us?"
"No."
"The families who have celebrated weddings and anniversaries here?"
"Mrs. Grant—"
"The neighborhood organizations that use the private dining room for fundraising dinners?"
Richard exhaled.
"This is a business negotiation."
"Then why are you asking me to sell something that isn't yours?"
His eyes narrowed.
"The trust is not the restaurant."
"No. It is the promise that the restaurant would remain something worth protecting."
Richard pushed the document closer.
"You could secure a very comfortable future for yourself and your family."
Eleanor looked at him for a long moment.
Then she laughed quietly.
Richard seemed offended.
"What's amusing?"
"You still believe I came here to ask for something."