Chapter 3

At two that afternoon, Chloe began her victory lap.

She posted directly in the company-wide group.

Chloe: "Everyone, I looked into it. Cloudrest Lodge's public rate is $380 per person, but Cookie says it can book it for us directly at $150. That's more than half off."

Leo from Sales replied immediately.

"Half? That's saving more than two hundred dollars per person. With over a hundred of us, that's enough money for another team event."

Mia from reception wrote, "Cookie can do that? We should use it to book everything from now on."

Wendy leaned toward me.

"That girl hasn't made a single phone call, and she's announcing it in the group like the contract is signed."

I rubbed my forehead and said nothing.

My phone buzzed.

It was a private message from Claire Bennett, our finance director.

"Ryan, did you keep the comparison records from when you sourced Cloudrest?"

I wrote back one word.

"Yes."

"Send them to me."

I pulled up the vendor comparison file I'd made three months earlier.

Seven different country lodges.

Rates, venue quality scores, menus, facilities, all of it.

Cloudrest wasn't the cheapest of the seven.

But it had the highest overall score.

I sent Claire the file.

Then I leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Wendy looked over again.

"You're really not going to say anything in the group?"

"Say what?" I leaned back in my chair. "That Cookie's wrong? Who's going to hear that right now?"

Wendy opened her mouth and couldn't come up with anything.

Across the office, Chloe held up her phone like a flag she'd just planted, her voice shaking with excitement.

"Cookie is amazing! Cloudrest Lodge, $150 a person! That's fifty dollars cheaper than Ryan's plan!"

Someone actually applauded.

"Nice work, Chloe!"

"AI really is the future."

"$150 and we still get the whole roasted lamb? I'm in."

Chloe's cheeks went pink from the praise.

She deliberately turned her head to look at me.

I didn't look back.

I stared at my computer screen while the cursor blinked on an empty line.

That night, I logged into Cloudrest Lodge's booking system from home.

My dad had given me administrator access years ago.

I checked the reservations for the following Saturday.

Empty.

There was no $150 booking.

There was no booking at all.

I checked the incoming reservation calls for the whole past week.

Nothing. Not one.

Chloe kept saying she'd booked it.

But what exactly had she booked?

I shut the laptop.

Then I sat there for a long time.

Finally, I picked up my phone and texted Dad.

"Dad, did you sell next Saturday's date?"

He replied instantly.

"Funny you ask. Another company has been asking about it for days. I was about to check with you."

My thumb hovered over the screen.

After a few seconds, I typed:

"Sign the contract."

Dad wrote back, "What happened? I thought your company was coming."

I thought about it, then typed, "Different person is handling it now. We probably aren't."

A long string of dots appeared.

Then:

"Forget it. I'll hold the date for you. But if you end up coming, I'm charging $380."

The corner of my mouth moved.

"Fine."

He didn't reply again.

I put the phone beside my pillow and closed my eyes.

For the next three days, Chloe talked to Cookie at her desk, louder and louder, as if she were afraid somebody might not hear.

I ignored her.