Chapter 8 - A Signature I Never Wrote

"I didn't sign anything," I said.

"I know," Dana answered. "The question is whether we can prove it before the investors vote."

I sat on a storage crate because my knee was beginning to swell. Eli handed me a clean towel without making a fuss. Ana leaned against the laundry wall, breathing carefully.

"What time was this supposed to have been signed?" I asked.

"Five forty this afternoon. In the executive suite."

At five forty I had been cleaning the banquet restrooms with Ana and Kayla. Our electronic work tickets recorded every room, every swipe, and every minute. For once, the ugly scheduling system management used to squeeze workers might save us.

"Pull my work log," I told Dana. "And the agency's check-in record. I was downstairs all afternoon."

"We're doing it. Nora, listen. Graham also contacted the lender. He's telling them your fund may default on its commitments if he loses control."

"Can he freeze the operating account?"

"He can scare the bank into delaying payments until they verify authority. Including payroll."

I looked at Ana. She'd told me that morning her rent was due in three days.

I thought about the people who couldn't wait for lawyers to win arguments in carpeted rooms. People whose electric bills didn't care who owned sixty-three percent of a hotel.

"Tell the bank the wages are protected under the purchase agreement," I said. "If they won't release the account, I'll fund payroll separately while we sort it out."

"That's a serious promise."

"So was the one I made when I bought this place."

Luis returned from the loading dock. "One of the men who grabbed Ana was hired by Vale's personal office, not hotel security. I have his vehicle plate."

A burst of music spilled down the corridor as the ballroom doors opened. The gala's master of ceremonies called the guests to their seats.

Graham was about to deliver his annual foundation speech. According to the event program, he would also announce a 'historic new partnership' to save the Aster Grand.

I knew what partnership meant in his mouth: another way to own the workers' labor without paying for it.

Then Eli showed me a clip from his phone. It wasn't the fountain footage.

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It showed Graham meeting a man beside a black sedan and handing him a slim metal case.

On the case was the name of the hotel's payroll contractor.