Naomi returned.
“I’ll take care of this.”
“Naomi.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For the service?”
“For the note.”
Her eyes moved toward Shaw.
“You should probably forget it.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“That could make things worse.”
“For who?”
She did not answer.
She processed my payment and returned.
I signed the receipt.
Then I added a tip.
Not absurd.
I did not want the amount itself to become the story.
Enough to reflect excellent service.
Naomi looked at it.
“Thank you.”
“You earned it.”
She smiled.
Then I said, “One more question.”
“Okay.”
“If you could fix one thing here tomorrow, what would it be?”
She thought for longer than I expected.
I assumed she would say Shaw.
She didn’t.
“I’d make people believe they can ask where their money went without losing shifts.”
That answer changed what I did next.
If she had asked me to fire the manager, I would have listened.
Instead, she asked for a system she could trust.
That told me more about Naomi Carter than any employee evaluation possibly could.
I stood.
Shaw noticed immediately.
He approached before I reached the host stand.
“How was everything?”
“The food was excellent.”
“Good.”
“And Naomi was exceptional.”
He gave a faint smile.
“I’m glad she managed.”
Managed.
As though serving one guest competently were a surprise.
I looked around.
“Beautiful room.”
“Thank you.”
“You proud of it?”
“Very.”
“You’ve been manager how long?”
“Three years.”
Three years.
Interesting.
Our turnover issue had worsened across roughly the same period.
Not proof.
Another question.
Shaw tilted his head.
“Have we met?”
“Not in person.”
His expression changed slightly.
I took a business card from my wallet.
Not the understated personal card I usually carried.
The corporate one.
SAMUEL AUGUSTINE
FOUNDER & CHIEF EXECUTIVE
AUGUSTINE HOSPITALITY GROUP
I handed it to him.
He looked at the card.
Then at me.
For one second, nothing happened.
I watched recognition arrive slowly.
His face went pale.
“Mr. Augustine.”
“Yes.”
The host beside us turned.
His mouth opened.
Shaw looked toward the back corner where he had seated me.
Then at the empty window tables.
Then toward the kitchen.
“Sir, I…”
I held up one hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“I can explain.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“I didn’t recognize you.”
That was the wrong answer.
I looked directly at him.
“That’s not the problem.”
He swallowed.
“I was managing the room.”
“You told your host to hide me from the windows.”
“I was trying to balance sections.”
“No.”
His face changed again.
“You said, ‘Away from the windows.’”
The host looked at the floor.
Shaw’s eyes moved toward him.
“Do not look at him,” I said.
Shaw looked back at me.
“You also called Naomi Carter disposable.”
His mouth tightened.
“That was a poor choice of words.”
“Yes.”
“She has performance issues.”
“Documented?”
He hesitated.
“We’ve had conversations.”
“Documented?”
“Some.”
“Good.”
That surprised him.
I continued.
“Then those records can be reviewed with everything else.”
His expression became wary.
“Everything else?”
I looked around the dining room.
Employees were pretending not to listen.
Guests near the entrance had noticed the tension.
I had no interest in creating a public spectacle.
“Your regional leadership will contact you.”
“About what?”
“Operations.”