Chapter 4: The Name on the Screen
“Your mother may not be listed in the arrangements in the capacity you assumed.””
Simone's words remained suspended between them.
Brandon stared at the event manager's tablet, but she had already angled it away. Lauren stepped closer, her champagne-colored gown brushing against his charcoal suit.
“What exactly are you trying to say?”” Lauren demanded.
Simone kept her voice even.
“I'm saying that we need to distinguish between the person who has been helping coordinate the event and the person authorized to make decisions under the arrangements. Those roles aren't necessarily the same.””
Lauren's eyes narrowed.
“Denise was helping us. That's all.””
“Then establishing the correct details should be straightforward,” Simone replied.
Brandon barely heard them.
He was thinking about his mother standing outside the ballroom, clutching her little purse while he watched her leave. He had assumed she was simply upset. He had assumed she would calm down, come back, and allow the evening to continue.
Now, for the first time, he wondered whether he had misunderstood the entire situation.
“Simone,” he said, “please tell me what you can.””
She looked at him for a moment.
“I can confirm that Ms. Denise's instruction has been received. I can also confirm that the authorization review is ongoing. I cannot tell you the outcome until the appropriate checks are complete.””
“Is my mother responsible for the arrangements?””
“That's one of the details I'm verifying.””
Lauren let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“This is ridiculous. We booked an engagement party, invited our families, and arrived expecting to celebrate. Now we're standing here discussing authorization as though we're strangers.””
Simone met her eyes.
“Ms. Lauren, I understand your frustration. But I cannot make decisions based on what anyone expected. I have to follow the arrangements that were actually made.””
Lauren looked toward the nearest table. Two women immediately turned back to their conversation.
She lowered her voice.
“Fine. Then tell us who we need to speak to.””
“I'll let you know once I've verified the details.””
Simone moved away.
Brandon watched her disappear through a side door leading toward the hotel's administrative offices.
Lauren grabbed his forearm.
“You need to fix this.””
He pulled his arm free, not aggressively, but firmly enough to surprise her.
“Stop telling me to fix things.””
“Excuse me?””
“You heard me.””
“Your mother is the one who walked out and withdrew something without warning us.””
Brandon looked at her.
“She walked out after you humiliated her.””
Lauren's mouth tightened.
“I did not humiliate her. I asked her to sit somewhere else.””
“You told her she wasn't dressed well enough to sit with us.””
“Because I wanted our engagement party to look beautiful!””
“It already looked beautiful!””
His voice rose enough to make a nearby guest glance toward them.
Brandon lowered it immediately.
“The flowers were beautiful. The room was beautiful. Everything was fine until you decided my mother was something to hide.””
Lauren stared at him, her expression hardening.
“You're making me the villain because I have standards.””
“No. I'm asking why your standards never seem to include treating her with respect.””
Lauren released a slow breath through her nose.
“You don't understand what it's like to have people judge everything you do. My parents have spent decades building relationships. They know people in every room they walk into. They can't afford to look careless.””
“And my mother makes you look careless?””
Lauren hesitated.
“That's not what I said.””
“But it's what you meant.””
She looked away.
Brandon had never seen her so unwilling to answer a simple question.
Across the ballroom, the microphone stood untouched on its stand. A staff member had quietly moved the first speech on the schedule back by several minutes. The guests were still eating, but the cheerful energy had become strained.
Brandon noticed a small arrangement of white roses on the family table.
His mother had requested those flowers because his father used to bring white roses home whenever he had done something wrong and wanted to apologize.
Brandon remembered laughing about that tradition when he was twelve.
His father had once come home with an enormous bunch of roses after forgetting Denise's birthday. Denise had accepted them, placed them in a vase, and then made him help wash the dishes.
“Flowers are lovely,” she had told Brandon afterward.
“But they don't wash dishes, fix mistakes, or make someone feel loved. People do those things.””
He had forgotten the lesson.
Or perhaps he had remembered it only when it was convenient.
His phone vibrated.
He pulled it out so quickly that Lauren noticed.
“Is it her?””
“No.””
“Then who?””
“My cousin.””
Brandon opened the message.
*Hey, man. Is everything okay? Aunt Denise just left the hotel.
She looked upset. What happened?*
He stared at the screen.
His cousin had not even been standing near the stage when Lauren spoke to Denise. He had been across the room, speaking with relatives.
Yet somehow, the people who had witnessed the moment were already asking questions.
Brandon typed a reply, deleted it, and put the phone away.
Lauren watched him.
“Don't tell your family about this.””
He turned slowly.
“Why?””
“Because they'll make it into something bigger than it is.””
“It's already something bigger than it is.””
“You know how your aunt is. She'll call everybody, and by tomorrow, the entire family will be discussing my behavior.””
Brandon looked at her in disbelief.
“Your concern is that people might find out how you treated my mother?””
“My concern is that a private disagreement will become public gossip.””
“She was standing in front of a room full of people when you said it.””
Lauren's cheeks reddened.
“You weren't exactly defending her.””
That silenced him.
She had found the one truth he could not push away.
For several seconds, Brandon looked down at the floor.
Then he nodded.
“You're right.””
Lauren's expression shifted, as though she expected him to continue defending himself.
“I should have defended her,” he said.
“I should have stopped you before it got that far.””
“Brandon—”
“But don't use my failure as an excuse for yours.””
He walked away before she could respond.
Near the ballroom entrance, he stopped beside a small table holding a guest book. The names of relatives and friends filled its pages. Some guests had written brief congratulations. Others had left personal messages for the couple.
Brandon picked up the pen, turned it between his fingers, then set it down.
He had spent weeks telling people how lucky he was to be marrying Lauren. He had spoken about their future home, their plans for children, and the kind of father he hoped to become.
Now he wondered what kind of father he would be if he could watch the woman who raised him get humiliated and still remain silent.
A side door opened.
Simone returned, carrying the tablet.
“Mr. Brandon, I've verified part of the information.””
He turned immediately.
“Tell me.””
Simone glanced at Lauren, who had followed him across the room.
“I can confirm that Ms. Denise's role in the arrangements was more substantial than simple coordination.””
Lauren went still.
Brandon felt his heartbeat quicken.
“What does that mean?””
“It means she was involved in decisions that affect how the event is being managed. Her withdrawal of authorization has to be processed according to the applicable terms.””
Lauren shook her head.
“No. She was just helping. She never said anything about being involved in decisions.””
Simone did not challenge her.
“I can only explain what the verified information supports.””
Brandon looked at the tablet.
“Can you tell me why she was involved?””
“That's something you would need to discuss with your mother.””
Lauren's eyes flashed.
“So you're refusing to answer us?””
“I'm protecting everyone's privacy and following the hotel's procedures.””
Simone began to step away, but Brandon spoke again.
“Please. Just one thing.””
She paused.
“Did my mother ask you to stop the party?””
“No.””
“Did she ask you to embarrass us?””
“No. She specifically asked that the matter be handled discreetly.””
Brandon looked toward the ballroom doors.
Even after being treated so cruelly, Denise had not tried to humiliate him in return.
She had left.
She had made a decision.
And she had asked the hotel to handle it properly.
Lauren folded her arms.
“Well, she has certainly made her point.””
Brandon turned to her.
“What point?””
“That we should never have accepted her help.””
He stared at her.
“You're serious?””
“She clearly wants us to feel indebted to her.””
“Did she ever ask you for anything?””
Lauren opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Brandon waited.
He remembered his mother attending family dinners with containers of food. He remembered her buying gifts for Lauren's younger relatives when she could barely afford presents for everyone. He remembered her declining invitations to expensive restaurants because she preferred to save money.
He could not remember a single time she had demanded repayment.
Lauren finally spoke.
“It's not about asking. It's about making sure everyone knows what she does.””
Brandon felt a cold weight settle in his chest.
“You mean she should have told everyone?””
“I mean people should know where things come from.””
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he said, quietly, “You never asked where anything came from.””
Lauren's face changed.
Before she could answer, Simone's tablet vibrated again.
She read the message, then looked up.
“I need to speak with the hotel's event director before I can confirm the remaining details.””
“Will you tell us when you know?”” Brandon asked.
“Yes.””
Simone left again.
Lauren stood beside him, breathing faster now.
“Brandon, we need to call your mother.””
He nodded.
“I know.””
“And you need to tell her to come back.””
He looked at her.
“No.””
Her mouth fell open.
“What?””
“I'm going to call her because I owe her an apology. I'm not going to ask her to come back and rescue this party.””
Lauren stared at him as if she no longer recognized the man standing before her.
For the first time that evening, Brandon did not look away.
Then his phone rang.
The caller ID showed a number he didn't recognize.
He answered.
“Hello?””
A calm male voice replied, “Good evening. Is this Brandon?””
“Yes. Who's calling?””
“My name is Michael. I'm the hotel's event director. I understand there's some confusion regarding your engagement arrangements.””
Brandon gripped the phone more tightly.
“Can you explain what's happening?””
“I can explain what we know so far. But before I do, I need to ask you one question.””
Brandon glanced at Lauren.
“What question?””
The director paused.
“Did your mother ever tell you why she agreed to be involved in this event in the first place?””
Brandon couldn't speak.
Because suddenly, he realized there was an even more painful possibility than losing the party.
May you like
His mother might have been trying to give him something meaningful.
And he had mistaken her kindness for something he could take for granted.
