Chapter 2 — Walking back to the entrance desk
The manager leads the father and Oliver away from the main dining room.
They walk past the glowing amber lights of the mahogany bar.
The ambient hum of silverware clinking against porcelain fades into the background.
They approach a heavy wooden door marked with a small brass plaque.
The manager pushes the door open to reveal the restaurant security office.
Banks of glowing monitors flicker against the dark walls of the compact room.
Several live feeds display various angles of the dining floor, kitchen, and entrance vestibule.
The manager sits down in a rolling leather chair in front of the central console.
He wakes the main terminal with a sharp tap of the keyboard.
A cursor blinks steadily on the screen.
The manager opens the restaurant reservation database.
He types in the confirmation number printed on Oliver’s registration slip.
The screen populates with the digital file associated with their party.
“Let us see what the system recorded for your arrival time,” the manager says.
He clicks on the timestamp entry.
The digital log confirms the reservation was entered into the system correctly at exactly six o’clock in the evening.
It lists the table as fully prepaid with no pending restrictions or requirements.
“The digital record is completely normal,” the manager remarks, his brow furrowing deeper.
“There is no flag on this account whatsoever.”
The father crosses his arms tightly over his blue suit jacket.
“Then explain why my son was given a apron and forced to set tables,” the father demands.
“Someone at that front desk did this deliberately.”
The manager nods slowly and reaches for the shift roster on the side of the desk.
“Let us check who was logged in at the entrance station during your arrival,” the manager replies.
He slides the printed staff sheet across the wooden desktop.
The entrance host on duty is a veteran employee named Caleb.
The manager points to Caleb’s name at the top of the schedule.
“Caleb has been working our front desk for over three years,” the manager notes.
“He knows our prepaid reservation policy better than anyone.”
The manager opens a secondary log window on the computer monitor.
He pulls up Caleb’s station activity report for the exact hour the family arrived.
A line of digital access codes scrolls down the screen.
The manager stops scrolling and points a finger at the monitor.
Caleb’s station log shows a strange modification made right after the family walked in.