“They’re being dealt with, sport. Don’t run to Twitter overit.”
“I do Instagram. And you were coming to update me?” Connorasked.
“No. I have news. I need everyone out by ten.”
“Ten?” Connor couldn’t keep the anger from hisvoice. “That’s two hours earlier than we agreed.”
“We’re getting complaints.” Rodney studied the thumpingdoors to the ballroom as if he thought a giant, snarling dog might barrelthrough them at any moment.
“From who?”
“From the guests. Who do you think, sport?”
“It’s nine thirty, and we’ve turned the music down twicealready when you asked. And we ran sound checks today from points all over thehotel and everyone said we’re well within—”
“We’ve got a banquet in here first thing in the morning, andwe need to turn over the room.”
“You didn’t know this before now?” Connor asked.
And which is it?he thought.Noise complaintsor turnover time?
“Plans change.” Rodney’s tone suggested Connor didn’t need tobe told why.
“It’s my graduation party, Uncle Rodney. It’s not like it’sgoing to happen again next year. I’m probably never going to graduate fromanything again.”
“Yeah, well, your life is kind of one nonstop party now,isn’t it, Connor?”
“Hopefully. I’m about to start working in the events office.Parties are literally my job.”
Rodney gave a long sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose asif logic, especially when it came from his only nephew, gave him a headache.“The Laguna Hills Auxiliary Society is one of our biggest clients. I’ve got tomove their annual breakfast out of the Seahorse Room because we’ve got a leakypipe in the ceiling. If you really want my job someday, sport, these are thetypes of emergencies you’re going to have to learn how to deal with.”
“My graduation party has been on the books for four years.And it’s not just my party. It’s their party. Almost everyone I’ve ever talkedto in my graduating class is here. And the last time I checked, this hotel’sgot three ballrooms. Why does the breakfast have to be in this one?”
“Ten thirty.” Rodney glared at him, aggression replacing condescension.“Music off at ten fifteen.”
“Music off at eleven.”
“You’re pushing it, Connor.”
“Actually, Rodney, I’m planning it. The Berry-Stein weddingstarted before dusk, which means they’re going to be winding down in anotherhour too. Which means if you clear everyone out of here at ten thirty, you’regoing to have a crush at the valet stand and an Uber and Lyft line that backsup all the way down the hill. That spells a ton of angry drunk people, most ofwhom will leave furious Yelp reviews on our profile first thing in the morningwhile they’re marinating in the sour soup of their hangovers. To say nothingabout the state of your inbox by tomorrow afternoon.”
Connor was so proud of this little speech he was tempted tofinish it off by tapping his uncle on the tip of his nose. But he figured thatmight earn him a swift kick in the ass.
He’d never gotten along well with Rodney, but recentlysomething in the man’s attitude toward him had shifted and gotten worse. Did heactually see Connor as a threat to his job? That was ridiculous. If Connorreally was going to run Sapphire Cove someday, that day was so far off in thefuture there was no reason for Rodney to worry about it now.
“Music off at ten forty-five.” Rodney’s smile was so falseit made Connor wince.
“Thank you, Uncle Rodney.” Connor hated that he was havingto show gratitude for holding his uncle to an agreement he’d made years beforefor a party Connor had been planning meticulously for months.
As Rodney headed off, there was a brief blast of musicbehind Connor, followed by the sound of the door clicking shut. Naser emerged,sober expression betraying he’d overheard everything.
“He’s shutting us down early.” Connor slumped against thewall next to where Naser stood just inside the hallway.
“Dick,” Naser said.
“Don’t pretend to be upset. I know you want to go.”
“So? It doesn’t mean you didn’t do an amazing job. I justcan’t stand being around a lot of people unless we’re all playing the sameboard game.”