James checked the time.
"When am I scheduled?"
"Eight-thirty. Eighteen minutes."
"Keep the program. Don't change my introduction. Don't announce anything early."
Lena's eyes widened.
"You're still speaking?"
"The students didn't insult me."
Ellen exhaled slowly.
"What about the Whitmores?"
"Let them sit where they chose to sit."
There was no satisfaction in his voice.
That unsettled Ellen more than anger would have.
"James, what are you going to say?"
"I don't know yet."
He looked through the glass toward the city.
"But I know what I'm not going to do. I'm not going to turn a scholarship dinner into a revenge show."
His phone vibrated.
Sarah.
He answered.
"You saw it?"
"Everyone saw it," she said. "A guest livestreamed the whole exchange. The clip is spreading."
"How fast?"
"Fast enough that Whitmore's head of communications just called our office asking if we can confirm whether the man in the video is you."
James closed his eyes briefly.
"What did you tell them?"
"Nothing. They aren't our client."
"Good."
"James, do you want me to suspend Monday's meeting?"
"Not yet."
Sarah was silent.
"You sound very calm."
"I'm at a charity gala."
"That is not an answer."
"Pull the full Whitmore file. Every settlement reference. Every HR risk item. Every board-level legal disclosure we received. Separate verified facts from allegations."
"Already started."
"Do not contact former employees unless counsel says the diligence process allows it. I don't want us turning a public scandal into a fishing expedition."
"Understood."
"And Sarah?"
"Yes?"
"The donation stays."
"I knew you'd say that."
"It was never contingent on my table being pleasant."
She sighed.
"Your mother would be proud and furious at the same time."
James looked toward the terrace, where Bradford and Victoria were staring down at their phones.
"That sounds accurate."
He ended the call.
Outside, the jazz quartet finished a song.
Applause rolled softly across the room.
James adjusted one cuff and waited for the program to begin.
The first sign that Bradford understood the situation was not his face.
It was the way he stopped drinking.
He had been holding the same champagne glass when James left the table, and for several minutes afterward he kept it in his hand as though the glass itself were part of the pose he needed to maintain. Then his phone began vibrating against the white linen.
Once.