Chapter 2 - Christmas Morning at Rowan House
Grace almost did not return.
At 9:42 Christmas morning, she stood outside Rowan House with Chloe beside her and seriously considered turning around.
The restaurant looked different in daylight.
Less magical.
More expensive.
That made Grace more uncomfortable, not less.
Chloe held her hand.
“Maybe he has Bunny.”
“He probably does.”
“You said he might throw him away.”
“I said he might not notice him.”
“That’s worse.”
Grace sighed.
“You are emotionally exhausting.”
The door opened.
James stood there.
No suit.
Dark sweater.
Gray trousers.
No tie.
Chloe stared.
“You have normal clothes.”
James looked down at himself.
“I’m trying something new.”
Then he held up Bunny.
Chloe gasped.
She ran inside.
“My baby!”
James handed the rabbit over solemnly.
“He behaved.”
“Did he sleep?”
“Very well.”
“Where?”
James pointed toward the counter.
Grace noticed a folded kitchen towel beneath the rabbit.
He had made the toy a bed.
She looked at him.
He immediately said, “That was unnecessary information.”
Grace smiled despite herself.
Then she remembered why she was there.
“You said this was paid work.”
“It is.”
James walked them toward the staff dining room.
The door was open.
Inside were eight people.
Two dishwashers.
Three cleaners Grace recognized from Brighton.
A prep cook.
A busser.
And James’s operations director, Rachel Kim.
Grace stopped.
“What is this?”
James placed yesterday’s framed policy on the table.
“Something stupid I signed.”
Grace looked at him.
He continued.
“Contract cleaners were excluded from staff meal because finance calculated food cost per direct employee.”
One of Grace’s coworkers, Maria, laughed bitterly.
“Yeah. We noticed.”
James nodded.
“You should have.”
Rachel opened a laptop.
“We’re changing the policy.”
Grace’s expression hardened.
“Because my daughter embarrassed everyone?”
“No.”
James looked at her directly.
“Because the policy was bad before your daughter existed.”
That answer disarmed her.
Rachel continued.
“All contracted staff working four hours or more will have access to staff meal. Same as direct employees.”
Maria raised a hand.
“Can we take it home?”
James looked at Rachel.
She answered.
“Food-safety rules mean some limitations, but yes, there’ll be a take-home option.”
Grace listened carefully.
This was better than a holiday grocery bag.
Better than a photograph of a billionaire handing turkey to cleaners.
It was boring.
Permanent.
That made it valuable.
James turned toward her.
“You said complicated solution.”
Grace nodded slowly.
“This is better.”
“High praise.”
“Don’t get comfortable.”
Then Rachel changed the screen.
“Second issue. Brighton.”
Grace immediately stiffened.
“What about Brighton?”
“Your time records.”
Grace looked at James.
He said, “I checked the contract.”
“Of course you did.”
“Your company bills Rowan House for full overnight coverage until midnight.”
“Yes.”
“How often are employees asked to clock out before finishing?”
The room changed.
Grace said nothing.
Maria looked at the floor.
One dishwasher frowned.
James noticed.
Rachel waited.
Grace finally answered.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“How behind we are.”
“Explain.”
Grace crossed her arms.
“Our Brighton supervisor wants clock-out by midnight exactly. If we’re not finished, we finish afterward.”
Rachel’s face hardened.
“Unpaid?”
Maria said, “Usually twenty minutes. Sometimes an hour.”
James did not react outwardly.
That was more frightening than anger.
“How long?”
Grace answered.
“Since I started.”
James looked at Rachel.
“Brighton invoices us until twelve-thirty.”
Silence.
Maria whispered something in Spanish.
Grace did not need translation.
James sat.
He did not make a speech.
“Document everything you remember. Nobody is required to speak today. Anyone who does gets paid for the time they’re here.”
Grace stared at him.
“You’re auditing them.”
“Yes.”
“You could just terminate them.”
“Yes.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Because then they lose the account and disappear.”
James looked around the table.
“And you still need the missing wages.”
Grace’s eyes narrowed slightly.
He had listened.
That surprised her more than any Christmas miracle would have.
Chloe sat in the corner coloring.
She looked up.
“Are grown-ups done being boring?”
Maria laughed.
James checked his watch.
“Almost.”
Chloe pointed toward the Christmas tree.
“Can we turn the lights on?”
“They’re already on.”
“No. All of them.”
Grace said, “Chloe—”
James interrupted.
“Show me.”
Chloe ran into the dining room.
Grace stayed behind.
“Why did you ask me here?”
James looked at her.
“Because if I wrote the new policy without people affected by it, I’d probably write another bad one.”
Grace studied him.
“You learn quickly.”
“No.”
He glanced toward the dining room where Chloe was explaining Christmas lights to a billionaire.
“I learn expensively.”
Grace laughed.
Then the kitchen door opened.
Chef Julian entered carrying a tray.
“What is that?” James asked.
“Breakfast.”
“It’s Christmas.”
“Yes.”
“You came in?”
Julian shrugged.
“My teenagers hate me before noon.”
He uncovered the tray.
Eggs.
Potatoes.
Toast.
Fruit.
Chloe returned.
Her eyes went wide.
“Can we eat?”
Grace looked at James.
He did not answer for her.
That mattered.
Grace smiled.
“Yes.”
The first meal under the new policy happened Christmas morning before the policy had technically been written.
Nine employees.
One billionaire.
One child.
Chef Julian.
Paper napkins.
Bad coffee.
No cameras.
No speeches.
When they finished, Chloe climbed into Grace’s lap.
James was collecting plates.
Again.
Grace watched him.
“You really do that yourself?”
“Occasionally.”
“You own thirty restaurants.”
“Thirty-two.”
“That makes it worse.”
James smiled.
Then Chloe asked, “Why are you alone on Christmas?”
The room went very quiet.
Grace whispered, “Chloe.”
James dried his hands.
“Because I chose work for a long time.”
“Over family?”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
“That’s dumb.”
Grace closed her eyes.
James nodded.
“It was.”
Chloe accepted that.
Then she ate another strawberry.
Grace looked at James differently after that.
Not because he was wealthy.
May you like
Not because he had fed them.
Because he had answered a child honestly when lying would have been easier.
