Before Maya could respond, Richard Westbrook himself approached, his voice booming across the ballroom. "What's the holdup? Where's our music?"
And that was when Maya's carefully constructed walls began to crumble, and a night she would never forget began to unfold.
Richard Westbrook wasn't the kind of man who accepted inconvenience. He'd built his fortune on controlling every aspect of his business empire, and he expected the same level of control in every area of his life. When things didn't go according to plan, someone always paid the price.
"What do you mean there's no pianist?" His voice carried across the ballroom, causing several guests to turn and look. "I paid good money for this event to be perfect. This is unacceptable."
Mr. Peterson stammered something about the musician being ill, but Westbrook wasn't interested in excuses. His face had turned red, and Maya could see the vein pulsing at his temple. This was a man used to getting his way, and right now he was not getting his way.
"Sir, perhaps we could play recorded music," Mr. Peterson suggested weakly.
"Recorded music? At a gala of this caliber?" Westbrook looked at him like he'd suggested serving fast food for dinner. "Absolutely not. This is a charity event attended by some of the most influential people in the city. We will have live music, or heads will roll."
It was at that moment that Mr. Peterson made a decision that would change everything. "Sir, we do have someone who can play. Maya here studied music at the conservatory. She can fill in."
Maya's blood ran cold. Every head in the nearby area turned to look at her. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She could only shake her head slightly, her heart pounding.
Westbrook's eyebrows raised as he looked her up and down, taking in her server's uniform, her practical shoes, her hair pulled back in a simple bun. A slow smile spread across his face, but it wasn't a kind smile. It was the smile of someone who'd just found an unexpected source of entertainment.
"The waitress," he said, loud enough for surrounding tables to hear. "Our waitress plays piano." He turned to his nearby guests. "Well, isn't this interesting?"
Murmurs spread through the crowd. People were setting down their forks, turning in their chairs to see what was happening. Maya felt like she was under a spotlight, even though the lighting hadn't changed. Her face grew hot with embarrassment.
"I... I don't think that's appropriate," Maya managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm working. I should get back to serving."