Chapter 14
The Moretti charity gala returned the following year.
Eleanor almost canceled it permanently.
Rosa told her not to.
“You don’t give the room to them.”
So Eleanor changed the room instead.
No secret service-uniform test.
No informal family representatives.
Every contractor received a written payment structure.
Temporary workers had an outside reporting line.
Complaints bypassed event executives.
Vendor selection required documented review.
No relative could create authority merely by saying they were family.
And Eleanor did something she had avoided for years.
She appeared publicly as chair of the Moretti charitable network.
Not as the secret head of anything criminal.
Not with dramatic declarations.
Simply as the person legally and operationally responsible for the institutions she actually controlled.
The distinction mattered.
Maya attended for twenty minutes.
That was her choice.
She wore a blue velvet dress and held Eleanor’s hand near the entrance.
The floral stands were new.
The champagne tower was smaller.
The brass event directory had been repaired.
Maya stared at the place where Genevieve slapped her.
Eleanor did not force her past it.
“You want to leave?”
Maya considered.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“I want cake.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Excellent reason to stay.”
A server passed carrying a tray.
Maya immediately stepped aside.
Then she looked up at Eleanor.
“Do people know you’re the boss now?”
“Some kinds of boss.”
Maya frowned.
Children disliked nuance.
Eleanor tried again.
“They know I’m responsible for this event.”
“Good.”
“Why?”
“So nobody thinks they can be mean to the workers.”
Eleanor crouched.
“They shouldn’t need to know who I am for that.”
Maya thought about it.
“Because workers are humans?”
Eleanor felt her throat tighten.
“Yes.”
“Kids too?”
“Yes.”
Maya nodded as if the problem had been solved.
May you like
Then she asked where the cake was.
For five-year-old logic, justice had remarkably efficient priorities.
