A few minutes later, the doors flew open.

The hotel’s general manager rushed out, scanning the entrance like someone late to meet a VIP. His eyes landed on me—and his expression drained before shifting to relief.

He hurried over. “Ms. Carter?” he called out, loud enough for nearby guests and the valet to hear. “Why are you sitting out here?”

The music inside cut off mid-note.

Richard’s smile vanished. My mother froze. And Chloe—stepping out with her fiancé—stopped cold, her champagne glass hovering inches from her lips.

For one suspended moment, the entire entrance fell silent except for the soft click of the revolving doors slowing behind me.

“Boss?” Richard repeated, his voice cracking as if the word didn’t belong anywhere near me.

The manager adjusted his tie, suddenly formal. “I’m so sorry,” he said, lowering his voice but not his volume enough to undo the damage. “We were expecting you inside to review the final seating changes.”

“Review?” my mother echoed, staring at my bare hands, my modest dress, searching for signs of the wealth she couldn’t reconcile.

I rose slowly and smoothed my skirt. “It’s fine,” I told him evenly. “I was asked to wait here. Apparently, it fits my personality.”

Chloe’s face flushed. Her fiancé, Ethan, looked from me to my parents, confusion hardening into concern.

The manager straightened. “Would you like me to escort you inside, Ms. Carter?”

The way he said it—measured, respectful—made every word sting for them.

“Yes,” I said simply, and walked past my parents without raising my voice.

Inside the lobby, heads turned. Someone whispered, “That’s the GM.”
Another murmured, “Did he just call her the boss?”

Phones appeared—not obvious, but present. My mother stiffened, fear flickering behind her practiced composure.

Richard hurried to catch up. “This is ridiculous,” he hissed. “You work here? What are you—an assistant?”