The Waitress Called Off The Deal
Chapter 3 - Why Sofia Wore The Uniform
Victoria stared at Sofia’s stained uniform.
“If you own Moretti Vineyards, why are you serving tables?”
It was the first question she asked without contempt.
Sofia sat across from her.
“Because this restaurant was considering carrying our wine.”
Victoria frowned.
“You came undercover?”
“Not exactly.”
Sofia occasionally worked anonymously at restaurants before signing distribution contracts.
She wanted to see how staff treated customers.
How managers treated employees.
Whether expensive bottles were stored correctly.
And, most importantly, how influential clients behaved when they believed nobody important was watching.
Richard knew she was visiting.
He did not know what she looked like.
That was intentional.
“I wanted to see Hale Hospitality before trusting it with my family name.”
Sofia looked toward Victoria.
“I learned enough today.”
Victoria's cheeks burned.
Her own behavior had destroyed the deal.
But Sofia wasn't finished.
“Richard contacted my financial director privately three months ago.”
Richard stiffened.
“He offered him money to alter our valuation.”
Victoria turned.
“Is that true?”
“No.”
Sofia placed her phone on the table.
An audio recording began playing.
Richard's voice.
“If Sofia thinks the company is weaker than it is, she'll accept quickly.”
Then another voice.
“And after she signs?”
“We separate the trademark rights. She won't notice until it's too late.”
Victoria covered her mouth.
Richard lunged toward the phone.
Sofia pulled it away.
“You recorded me illegally.”
“No.”
She looked toward the door.
“My financial director recorded you.”
Richard turned toward Victoria.
“This is business. You don't understand.”
Something changed in her face.
For years, he had used that sentence.
When she questioned investments.
When she asked why properties were being sold.
When she wondered why her inheritance account kept shrinking.
You don't understand business.
Suddenly she remembered something.
“My inheritance.”
Richard stopped.
Victoria stood.
“The twelve million my father left me.”
“It was invested.”
“Where?”
Richard didn't answer.
Sofia looked at her carefully.
“You should probably ask your own accountant.”
Victoria's voice became quieter.
“I don't have one.”
Richard had convinced her they only needed his.
Sofia understood immediately.
“Then get one.”
Victoria stared at her husband.
For the first time that afternoon, Sofia almost felt sorry for the woman who had thrown wine at her.
Almost.
