“Ms. Reed, I am terribly sorry. There seems to be a problem with your reservation. The table was confirmed earlier by another party.”
Cassandra blinked, thinking she had misheard.
“I reserved it two months ago,” she replied calmly, though heat crept up her neck. “Under Cassandra Reed.”
The hostess checked again with a strained smile.
“It appears that a Mr. Preston Avery requested that the reservation be transferred. He claimed it was authorized.”
Cassandra felt the name strike like cold water. Preston. Her former partner. The man who left six months earlier after promising they would build a life together. She understood instantly. This was not an accident. This was cruelty served with champagne.
People nearby whispered. Phones tilted. Recognition spread. A powerful woman denied a table. The story would travel fast.
Cassandra turned toward the elevator, refusing to let anyone see the sting behind her eyes. She had mastered boardrooms. She had commanded factories. Yet humiliation still knew how to reach her.
Then a voice called out from a corner table. “Maam. Please wait.”