We movedinto the conference room to discuss the Kurt Wilder development. Inside, with the door locked, Orion pulled out the complaint Wilder had handed us, and a flash drive clattered on the table.
“What’s that?” Tashi said.
She perched on the edge of her seat at the conference table, her face drawn into a worried expression. This time, instead of confident and self-assured, she wore a terrified expression, as if life as she knew it had ended.
I didn’t blame her.
Orion studied the paperwork. “Wilder’s evidence,” he said.
I scooped up the flash drive, plugged it into my computer, and channeled it through the Wi-Fi connection to the room’s big-screen television. The drive showed Tashi getting uncomfortably close to a man in the elevator, with him trying to pull away.
“That’s Marcus Talbor,” I said.
“That’s not what happened!” said Tashi. “He propositioned me!”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I said.
“What’s wrong with you? I did try to tell you, Ares,” Tashi snapped. “Instead of focusing on that, you got all upset about me and your brothers, and then, well, you know. You all ended up in my bed.”
“After the elevator,” Leo said thoughtfully.
“You were aware of this incident but didn’t investigate it?” Orion shot me a glance that communicated he couldn’t believe I had failed at my job.
I couldn’t believe it either.
I couldn’t answer him. I had put us all at risk by focusing on the wrong thing.
“Look,” Leo said. “There’s plenty of blame to go around. All of us failed to keep our promise and lost focus on the business. Except for you, Tashi. You got caught in the middle of this, because whatever is going on, it’s not about the new employee.”
A sharp knock echoed through the conference room.
Closest to the door, I unlocked it, and Henri Saltz stormed in. The first thing I noticed was his suit: a navy pinstripe, pressed within an inch of its life, paired with a burgundy tie that screamed “serious business.” Wrong. Henri wore golf clothes on Fridays and had done so for as long as we’d known him, without fail. He should be on the back nine by now, not dressed as if he were meeting with the board.
His face was flushed, not the healthy pink of someone who’d been in the sun, but the mottled red of barely controlled fury. Veins stood out on his temples. His jaw worked like he was chewing words he didn’t want to spit out yet.
“What have I heard about a sexual harassment suit against the hotel?” His voice came out higher than usual, strained. “When were you going to tell me?”
I tracked everything. I noticed the way his hands flexed at his sides. The slight tremor in his left shoulder—stress or rage, difficult to tell. Something was off about Henri. Way off.
“Henri, we just found out ourselves,” Orion said, his voice tight.
“Kurt Wilder dropped it on us this morning,” Leo added. “In the lobby.”
Henri’s eyes swept the room like a spotlight, pausing on each of us before landing on the frozen image on the screen—Tashi and Marcus in the elevator. His pupils dilated. Why?
“And who’s the employee involved in these allegations?”
“The allegation is against Tashi,” I said, watching his reaction carefully. “We don’t believe it for a second.”
“Someone deep-faked this footage but used the time stamps from the elevator,” Leo said. “We believe Tashi, so that’s the only conclusion we can come to.”
Henri’s expression hardened, but there was something underneath the anger. His breathing quickened. His hands formed fists. “This is a disaster. Ms. George must be terminated immediately.”
Tashi flinched like she’d been slapped. Her knuckles went white where they gripped the table edge.
“Absolutely not,” Orion said, steel entering his voice as he rose to face Henri.
“She’s our best marketing asset,” Leo added, moving slightly to position himself between Henri and Tashi. “Revenue’s up thirty-one percent since she started.”
