Page 130 of Collateral Damage
Sitting across from her, I expect her to pull out familiar books with options for the event, but she turns to us with a frown. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
My lungs burn. “What do you mean?”
Evelyn’s eyes bounce between me and Miriam. “Your event was canceled. Two days ago. Don’t you remember?”
“Canceled?” I shake my head slowly. “We never canceled anything.”
“Wewouldn’tcancel,” Miriam adds sternly. “We have this same event on the same weekend every year at your hotel. It’s been this way for nearly two decades.”
Evelyn winces. “Which was why I was so surprised you canceled it.” She gives me an apologetic look. “We received a call from you a few days ago, Sybil. If it wasn’t you, it was a woman using your name. They said the event was canceled due to unforeseen circumstances.”
My pulse pounds in my ears. “I never would’ve made that call. You didn’t think to confirm with me personally?”
Evelyn pales. “I told you, I meanthem, whoever they were, we require written confirmation as per the terms of the contract.They sent an email from your work address.” She turns the screen to face me. “See for yourself.”
Miriam grips the arms of her chair like she’s on a rollercoaster, about to make the big drop. “There’s obviously been a mistake or someone trying to sabotage our event.”
“I’m afraid it’s the latter,” Evelyn says. “Look here, this is your email address, correct?”
Sure enough, in black and white, is my email address attached to a brief request to cancel the event.
Bile churns in my stomach, and I immediately picture Jonathan sitting at my computer, typing away, clearly doingsomethingmore than a seating chart.
I’m going to kill that little weasel.
“I understand your frustration,” Evelyn says, her customer-service voice trying to de-escalate the tension. “We verified both over the phone and in writing. I’m so sorry someone hacked into your email and pretended to be you on the phone, but unfortunately, the ballroom has already been rebooked.”
“Rebooked?” I gape at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is a charity gala for Laurence International. We can’t move it to another day. This event has been on the first Saturday of October for years. What would you have us do?”
Miriam places a steady hand on my arm. “Take a breath, Sybil.” Her eyes narrow to death-slits at Evelyn. “Are you certain there’s nothing you can do to get us our date back?”
Evelyn shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. I can’t cancel an event after they’ve already booked and paid, but I can return your deposit, given the unfortunate situation. We really hope to do business with you again.”
I blink rapidly, anger giving way to confusion, trying to make something fit that isn’t quite making sense. “Wait. You saidIcalled you, right? It was a woman who spoke with you?”
“Yes, I was surprised you’d wanted to cancel the event, and I distinctly remember a woman’s voice insisting upon it. I’m sorry, I really thought she was you, and when the email came in, I proceeded.”
I stare at Evelyn for a long moment, mind reeling. Maybe Jonathan sent that email, but there’s no way he would’ve made the phone call. He and Vale must have recruited someone.
Miriam crosses her arms, expression darkening to match my own internal turmoil. “This wasn’t Sybil. Someone impersonated her. I want you to make note that for future events, any cancellations with Sybil must be done in person.”
Evelyn bobs her head vigorously. “Of course. I’ll make a note of it in your file. I’m so sorry.”
Miriam lets out a long breath through her nostrils. “I want you to figure out what phone number called you.”
Evelyn places her hand over her heart. “I will do everything in my power to find answers for you. This is… unprecedented in my career. I’ve never seen such sabotage before.”
My teeth grind together. I’m determined to get to the bottom of this, but first I have to start making phone calls. I’ve got to find a new venue, which will be next to impossible for a Saturday. I’m afraid it won’t matter how much money and connections I throw at this problem.
I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, me too, but given the last year of my life, this doesn’t even surprise me.”
Fuck Jonathan Vale, and fuck Lance, too. They’re sick for being willing to let innocent people get hurt in their scheming. While I’m upset about my job, I’m more upset about the possibility that those disabled kids and their families won’t get the funding they’re counting on. I won’t let that happen.
Fifty-Five
Sybil
Present - Age 27
