Each thought collapsed almost as soon as it formed. Margaret had not threatened him with her name or claimed special treatment. She had simply asked to eat, and he had denied her on grounds he could barely articulate aloud now. What frightened him most was that she had given him multiple chances to act differently and he had rejected every one of them.
Daniel pointed toward the lobby. "Eleanor is arriving now. You need to speak to Mrs. Hale before this goes any farther."
Brad snatched up his jacket from the chair. "Is she still here?"
"I don't know. Eleanor's at the door."
"Then find out." He hurried around the desk and nearly collided with Lily, who had returned to collect the lunch seating chart. She stepped aside as he rushed past, leaving the office door swinging behind him.
At the reception desk, Eleanor Brooks was speaking to Anthony and Priya. She wore a practical dark suit, carried a briefcase, and had none of the flamboyance Brad associated with important executives. She had worked with Margaret for twenty years, long enough to become unimpressed by men who confused managing a restaurant with owning everyone inside it.
"Mr. Coleman," she said when she saw Brad approaching. "We need to discuss last evening."
"Of course," he said, trying to recover his composure. "I've just learned there may have been a misunderstanding involving Mrs. Hale. Is she here?"
Eleanor looked at him steadily. "She's at the front entrance. She wanted to see the place in daylight before the staff meeting."
Brad rushed toward the glass doors. Beyond them, in the morning sun, Margaret Hale stood beside a planter filled with lavender, examining the old brass plaque that bore Peter's name. Samuel waited near the curb, and Margaret had not yet turned toward the restaurant. Brad pushed the door open and hurried outside, his pulse beating against his collar.
"Margaret!" he called. "Ms. Hale, please wait."
She turned slowly, neither surprised nor alarmed. "Good morning, Brad."
He stopped several feet from her. He had rehearsed an apology in the few seconds it took him to cross the lobby, but every sentence now sounded either too formal or too desperate. "I need to apologize," he said.
Margaret looked at him for a long moment. "Are you apologizing because you learned my name?"
"That's not the reason," he said automatically.
"Then what is?"
Brad opened his mouth, ready to claim that his treatment had been a misunderstanding. But the words would not survive the look she gave him. He remembered saying she lacked the ability to afford the food, remembered the expression on Anthony's face when he called security, and remembered Lily standing beside the empty table with the menu in her hands.
"Because I realized how badly we treated you," he said at last.
Margaret did not soften. "You should have realized that before knowing who I was."