Chapter 2: The Signature That Wasn't Mine
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I stared at the document in Patricia's hands.
My name was printed beneath the signature.
Nia Carter.
The address was correct. The last four digits of my credit card were correct.
Even the handwriting looked familiar.
But I hadn't signed it.
“Patricia,” I said slowly, “when did you receive this?””
“Yesterday afternoon.””
“From whom?””
“Your mother brought it to the restaurant personally.””
I looked at the document again.
“Did you verify it with me?””
Patricia shook her head.
“Your mother said you'd authorized her to handle the final arrangements. She also said you were unavailable because of work.””
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“That's interesting. I spoke with your office three times yesterday.””
“I know. That's why I became concerned when the additional requests started coming in.””
She flipped to another page.
“There's more.””
The folder contained a printed list of supplemental orders.
Beside each request was the name of the person who'd made it.
Evelyn Carter: premium champagne, $3,200.
Claire Carter: seafood upgrade, $2,450.
Marcus Carter: private bar extension, $1,800.
Evelyn Carter: additional floral display, $1,150.
Claire Carter: custom dessert station, $975.
And then there were the charges for additional guests, premium wine, and a late-night entertainment extension.
I looked at Patricia.
“Did my mother tell you I agreed to all of this?””
“She said you wanted to give her the birthday celebration she'd always dreamed of.””
I closed the folder.
“That's not an answer.””
Patricia nodded.
“I apologize.””
“No. You didn't create this situation. But I need to know whether anything has actually been charged to my card.””
“Your original deposit and scheduled balance have been processed. The supplemental charges are pending authorization.””
“Good. Freeze them.””
Patricia hesitated.
“I'm sorry?””
“Do not charge my card another dollar without speaking directly to me.””
“Of course.””
“And remove the authorization form my mother provided.””
“I can flag it for our finance department immediately.””
I looked toward the dining room.
My mother was standing beside the birthday cake, smiling while guests took photographs.
A waiter approached her with another bottle of champagne.
She pointed toward the table and laughed.
She looked like a woman enjoying a celebration she'd paid for herself.
Except she hadn't.
I turned back to Patricia.
“Can you print every request made tonight, including the time and the person who submitted it?””
“Certainly.””
“And I want a copy of that authorization form.””
Patricia nodded.
“I'll have everything prepared.””
I was about to leave when she touched my arm gently.
“Ms. Carter?””
I turned.
“There's one other thing.””
“What?””
“Your mother asked us to prepare a separate meal for you.””
I frowned.
“What do you mean?””
Patricia looked uncomfortable.
“She said you preferred not to eat with the family and requested that we serve your food in the ladies' lounge.””
I stared at her.
The ladies' lounge.
Not the private dining room.
Not even the staff area.
The bathroom.
My mother had planned this.
The chair incident wasn't an impulsive outburst. It was the final part of a decision she'd already communicated to the restaurant.
I swallowed.
“Did you prepare the meal?””
“Yes. It's still in the kitchen.””
“Cancel it.””
Patricia nodded.
“Would you like us to pack it?””
“No, thank you.””
I turned away.
My phone began ringing.
Mom.
I watched her name flash across the screen.
I let it ring.
Then a text arrived.
*MOM:* Where are you? The photographer needs a family picture.
Another message.
*CLAIRE:* Stop acting dramatic. Everyone is waiting.
Then Marcus.
*MARCUS:* Just come back and apologize. It's Mom's birthday.
I almost laughed.
Apologize?
For what?
Not wanting to eat in a bathroom?
I slipped my phone into my purse and walked toward the lobby.
But before I reached the elevators, I heard footsteps behind me.
“Nia!””
I turned.
Claire was hurrying down the hallway, her heels clicking against the marble floor.
She was holding a small clutch and looking furious.
“What are you doing?”” she demanded.
“Going home.””
“You can't leave.””
“Watch me.””
Claire grabbed my arm.
“Mom is already upset. You're making everything worse.””
I gently removed her hand.
“Did you request the seafood upgrade?””
Her expression changed.
“What?””
“The additional champagne. The private bar. The dessert station. Did you request those?””
Claire looked toward the dining room.
“It's a birthday dinner.””
“That's not what I asked.””
She rolled her eyes.
“Mom said you were covering the extras.””
“Mom lied.””
Claire's jaw tightened.
“Don't be ridiculous. You always pay for things.””
There it was.
Not gratitude.
Not appreciation.
Expectation.
I looked directly at her.
“Why did you think I would pay for something I never approved?””
“Because you're the only one who can afford it.””
I blinked.
Claire seemed to realize what she'd said, but instead of taking it back, she crossed her arms.
“You have a good job. You don't have children. You live alone. What are you even saving all that money for?””
I stared at my younger sister.
I'd spent years helping her.
I'd paid her rent twice when she was behind. I'd covered her car insurance during a difficult divorce. I'd helped Marcus with his business loan when his first company collapsed.
And now Claire was explaining why my money belonged to her.
“I'm saving it for my future,” I said.
She scoffed.
“God, you're selfish.””
“No, Claire. I'm finished.””
I stepped toward the elevator.
She followed.
“Mom said the extra charges were already handled.””
“Then Mom can handle them.””
Claire's face went pale.
“You can't do that to her in front of everyone.””
I pressed the elevator button.
“She had no problem doing something to me in front of seventy people.””
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped inside.
Claire stood outside, her voice dropping.
“Nia, you don't understand. Mom promised something to those guests.””
“What did she promise?””
Claire hesitated.
Then she looked down at her phone.
A notification appeared on her screen.
I caught a glimpse of the message before she turned it away.
*MARCUS:* Did you get Nia to approve the $18,600? We need that money tonight.
The elevator doors began closing.
Claire shoved her hand between them.
“Wait!””
I stepped back.
“Why does Marcus need that money?””
Her expression shifted.
For the first time that evening, she looked genuinely afraid.
May you like
And then she said something I never expected.
“Because Mom already told everyone you were buying her the house.””
