"I don't want to give you pity," Ethan said. "I wouldn't want it, either."
"You're a strange man, Ethan."
"I've heard that before."
"Well, get some rest. Tomorrow will probably be worse."
He opened his mouth to offer a reassurance he could not yet make, then chose words that made no promises about the manager or the finances. "Then tomorrow, we'll handle it."
Olivia gave him an uncertain smile and crossed the lot to a compact car with a missing hubcap. Ethan watched until she drove away, then walked in the opposite direction toward his own sedan. The city streets were wet, the restaurant's sign shone through a fine evening mist, and the expensive dining room looked peaceful from the sidewalk. Ethan knew better now than to mistake that appearance for the truth.
At home, his apartment overlooking the river felt too quiet. He could have ordered dinner from any of the company's kitchens, but instead he ate a piece of toast standing at the counter because his muscles ached too much to cook. He found the linen napkin he had once chosen for the Halsted dining room tucked in a sample box in his study. He held its heavy weave between his fingers and thought about Olivia's hands, the cracked floor, the unpaid supplier, and the woman who had apologized for asking for water.
Ethan called Daniel before he went to bed. He reported the unsafe equipment and the hostile treatment in factual terms, without offering the employees' private conversations as gossip. Daniel wrote down the details and confirmed that maintenance requests and complaints would be reviewed independently of whatever Marcus claimed. After they hung up, Ethan lay awake wondering how many smaller acts of disrespect he had overlooked during years of carefully arranged visits.
On Tuesday morning the kitchen smelled of coffee, citrus peel, and the sharp metallic scent of a drain that had not been properly repaired. Ethan arrived before his scheduled time and found Luis crouched beside a rolling rack, trying to keep its damaged wheel from wobbling. Someone had wedged cardboard beneath the frame to stop it from leaning. Luis explained that the rack carried heavy trays during lunch, but a replacement had been requested six weeks earlier and had never arrived.
"What happens if it tips?" Ethan asked.
"Then Marcus tells whoever was standing closest that they should have been more careful."
"Does he know it's broken?"
Luis looked at him as if the answer were obvious. "Everybody knows."
Ethan took a photograph of the equipment itself during a quiet moment, careful not to include employee records or anyone who had not agreed to be pictured. He entered the issue through the maintenance reporting system available on the staff terminal. The screen showed three prior tickets marked resolved. Nothing about the rack suggested it had ever been repaired.
Near the beginning of lunch preparation, a supplier representative called the kitchen phone. Victor answered, listened for several minutes, and then stood very still beside the dry goods shelf. Ethan was rinsing baking trays close enough to hear Victor say, "Those items were delivered in two shipments, not four. I signed for what arrived. I'm looking at my copy now."