Martin Feldman looked up from his notes.
Naomi remained composed.
“Did you hear any other comments?”
Anthony nodded.
“She said, ‘You people always think confidence will make a lie sound better.’”
Marianne's face flushed.
“I was upset.”
Anthony looked at her.
“So was I.”
It was the first time he had ever said anything like that to her.
Darius watched him carefully.
Anthony continued.
“I was standing behind the podium. I heard everything. Mr. Whitaker never threatened her. He never raised his voice. He didn't touch her.”
Naomi nodded.
“Thank you.”
Marianne leaned forward.
“This is an employee who has worked under my supervision. He may have personal grievances.”
Anthony's face tightened.
Darius spoke.
“Do you have a personal grievance against Mrs. Ellsworth?”
Anthony looked at him.
“No, sir.”
“Have you ever been disciplined by her?”
Anthony hesitated.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“For refusing to tell a guest that the dining room was full when there were empty tables.”
Marianne stared at him.
“That is not what happened.”
Anthony continued.
“The guest was a visiting professor. She had been invited by a member. Mrs. Ellsworth told me she didn't look appropriate for the main dining room.”
“Anthony,” Marianne snapped.
Darius raised his hand.
“Let him finish.”
Anthony swallowed.
“She was wearing a simple dress. Nothing unusual. She had a reservation. But Mrs. Ellsworth told me to put her in the side lounge.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she had a reservation for the dining room.”
“What happened?”
“I was removed from the weekend schedule for two weeks.”
Naomi looked toward Peter.
“Mr. Lyle, are you familiar with this incident?”
Peter's face had become pale.
“I would need to review the records.”
Darius looked at him.
“You are the general manager.”
“Yes.”
“You should know.”
Peter lowered his eyes.
Marianne leaned back.
“This is becoming a collection of unrelated complaints.”
“No,” Darius said. “It is becoming a pattern.”
Naomi requested that the meeting pause for ten minutes.
During the break, Anthony stood and walked toward the window.
He could see the valet circle.
His podium remained where he had left it.
A young attendant was now handling the arriving vehicles.
Anthony felt strangely uncomfortable.
He had told the truth.
Yet he could not stop thinking about what would happen afterward.
He had worked at Harbor Ridge for eleven years.
He knew which managers liked him.
Which employees trusted him.
Which members tipped generously.
Which members treated him as if he were furniture.
He had learned to survive.
Sometimes survival meant laughing at jokes that were not funny.
Sometimes it meant accepting blame for mistakes he had not made.
Sometimes it meant apologizing to people who had insulted him.
He had a wife.
A mortgage.
A son named Jordan.
Jordan was twenty years old and studying business administration at a community college.
Anthony had worked extra shifts to help pay for his books.
He could not afford to lose his job.
He looked at the golf course.
Then he heard footsteps.
Darius approached.
“Everything all right?”
Anthony straightened.
“Yes, sir.”
“You don't need to stand every time I approach you.”
Anthony gave a small, embarrassed smile.
“Habit.”
Darius looked through the window.
“Eleven years is a long time.”
“Yes.”
“Do you like working here?”
Anthony considered the question.
“I like the work.”
“That wasn't quite what I asked.”
Anthony looked at him.
Then he answered honestly.
“I used to like working here.”
Darius nodded.
“What changed?”
Anthony looked toward the boardroom.
“People.”
“Which people?”
Anthony hesitated.
“Management.”
Darius waited.
Anthony finally continued.
“Mrs. Ellsworth has a lot of influence. Everybody knows it. Mr. Lyle tries to keep her happy. Mr. Ellsworth handles the finances. Nobody wants trouble.”
“Have you experienced retaliation?”
Anthony nodded.
“Several times.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“Last Christmas, a kitchen worker named Miguel reported that the event supplier had delivered fewer chairs than the invoice listed. He refused to sign the delivery sheet.”
“What happened?”
“He was transferred to overnight cleaning.”
“Was the transfer disciplinary?”
“He was told it was temporary.”
“Was it?”
Anthony shook his head.
“He quit three weeks later.”
Darius's expression changed.
“Who approved the transfer?”
Anthony looked at the floor.
“I don't know.”
“Did you see the paperwork?”
“No. But Mrs. Ellsworth spoke to him that afternoon.”
Darius remained quiet.
Anthony continued.
“I didn't say anything then.”
“Why not?”
Anthony looked toward the photograph of the original clubhouse hanging behind the table.
“Because I needed the job.”
Darius nodded.
“That is an honest answer.”
Anthony looked surprised.
Darius continued.
“People sometimes mistake silence for agreement. It isn't always. Sometimes it's the only protection someone believes they have.”
Anthony's eyes became moist.
He looked away quickly.
Darius placed one hand on the back of a chair.