Chapter 2

Me: [Everyone, I'm not trying to weasel out of anything. The Windsor Grand really isn't my family's place. My family just sells sandwiches and soup for a living. This whole thing is one big misunderstanding. Cut me some slack.]

Sandra Crowe, our class's disciplinary committee member, spoke up.

Sandra: [Oh, come on, leave her alone. It can't be easy playing the poor-little-rich-girl routine, and it's got to be embarrassing now that we've caught on.]

The others chimed in.

[Rachel, that's a little cold, isn't it? We're old classmates. Your family runs a place that fancy, and we want to soak up a bit of it. What's the harm?]

[Forget it, forget it. Little Miss Ford's much too busy these days to bother with old classmates like us.]

[Fine, fine, let's just book somewhere else. We come here in good faith to support your business, and this is the thanks we get.]

I stared at my screen, my hand shaking with anger. Nobody was listening to a word I said. Everyone just kept talking over each other, and Megan's profile picture kept bouncing to the top of the thread.

Megan: [Rachel, so many of us are coming out to make you look good. Don't we at least deserve a parting gift?]

[Right, right! I saw on their website they've got those custom silk eye masks. One for everyone isn't asking too much, is it?]

[I want that limited-edition travel set, the one with all the Bvlgari toiletries. My wife's been wanting it forever.]

[I saw they've got spa vouchers too. One each, maybe?]

[Could you throw in a few free-stay vouchers on top? Doesn't need to be much, two per person would do. I want to bring my parents around New Year's.]

[I want a box of those scented candles from the lobby. Just hand over a whole case.]

I gave a cold, silent laugh. Eating and sleeping there for free wasn't enough. Now I was supposed to play Santa Claus too.

I explained myself one last time, as patiently as I could manage.

Me: [Everyone, I'll say it one more time. Vince Ford is my boss. He is not my father. If you want to get together, I can use the staff entrance to help book a table. Beyond that, I'm just an employee. I don't have the authority to comp anything. Have I made myself clear?]

The chat went silent for three seconds. Then Megan sent a pouty little emoji.

Megan: [Rachel, doesn't it bother your conscience to say that? I went through all this trouble putting the reunion together, just so everyone could have a good time, and here you are ruining it for everyone. You couldn't even come up with a decent excuse? You think we're idiots?]

Sandra: [You used to be so generous, Rachel. Why are you putting on such airs now? I guess money really does make people look down on everyone else. Look at who she is now, and look at who we are. No wonder she can't stand us poor friends showing up uninvited.]

Then Megan sent a long voice message. Fury poured out of it the moment I hit play.

"I'm telling you, Rachel, I contacted every single person for this reunion. Counting heads, arranging the schedule, I spent a whole week on it.

"And what was it all for? Just so everyone could be happy. And you, from the start, it's one excuse after another.

"If you really don't want anything to do with your old classmates, just say so. Why drag it out with garbage like this?"

Someone jumped in to comfort her.

[Don't let it get to you. Some people are just ungrateful. You pour your heart out for them, and they treat it like nothing.]

[Seriously, Rachel, that's low even for you. Megan already paid out of her own pocket, and you can't even agree to set up a table? That's a deliberate slap in the face.]

Megan sent two more messages.

Megan: [Rachel, we're booking the Windsor Grand. You're going to show up and explain yourself in front of everyone.]

Megan: [If you don't show your face, then that's it for our friendship. Your call.]

The chat went quiet. Everyone was staring at their screens, waiting for my reply.

I stared at the words "our friendship" until I laughed out loud. That friendship sure came with a hefty price tag.

Then I left the group chat and opened my messages with the boss.

Me: [There's something I'd like to talk to you about.]

That Saturday wasn't my shift, and I was curled up under the covers binge-watching a show when the doorbell went off like a fire alarm.

I answered the door in my pajamas and nearly got shoved back inside by the wall of people crowding the hallway. Megan led the pack, with seven or eight old classmates crammed in behind her, and a few more trailing families out in the corridor.

She had her phone held up on speaker, the group still going off in a chorus of voices on the other end.

"Is Rachel answering the door yet?"