Chapter 30
I remember running into Richard in the corridor once. I said hello to him. He said hello back, and that should have been it. But then he followed me into the housekeeping room and started asking me uncomfortable questions. He wanted to know if I had a boyfriend and if I was into older men.
Extract from an exposé interview in The Blackroom
Kate
“There are more cancellations rolling in for the Pearl Gala, the charity event hosted by the well-known Darlington Hotel,” announced the morning show host on the break room TV.
I was sitting at the table with Rose, eating leftovers from the restaurant’s breakfast service.
My shift hadn’t yet started, but Rose was already halfway through her workday.
Grace had the late shift today and wouldn’t be arriving at the hotel until around noon.
“The hotel came under fire earlier this year when its owner, Richard Darlington, was accused of sexual misconduct by several women,” the host continued.
“It’s now been confirmed: The case is going to court.
And that seems to be scaring off many of the A-list attendees.
More on this from our favourite INsider, William Hunt! ”
The camera panned across the studio and zoomed in on the self-proclaimed high-society expert, whose face I’d seen far too often in recent days. He reported almost daily on The Darlington, Henry, and his family. And unfortunately, on me as well.
Three days ago, I had appeared in the news again when reports emerged that the mysterious woman in the photos worked at the hotel.
We didn’t know if Mr. Fleming had outed me or if one of the journalists from the press conference had spotted me, but the story spread quickly and reignited speculation about Henry and me.
Some people theorised that the secretly photographed meeting had been a job interview, while others thought we looked far too intimate for that to be the case.
Henry’s parents and Vivian wanted him to release a statement leaning into the job interview theory, but he refused to lie to the press.
I turned off the TV, and Rose gave me a sideways glance. “How are things going in the kitchen?” I asked.
“Fine. There’s not much going on in the restaurant at the moment, but it means we have time to prepare for Halloween,” she answered, stabbing at a slice of pepper in her hummus.
“What’s happening on Halloween?”
“The masked ball.”
“Right, Henry mentioned that,” I said, recalling how we had sat on the ballroom floor and Henry had shown me the scratch he and Logan had made. “Is it a big deal?”
“We’re catering a flying buffet for two hundred guests, so yeah, it’s a pretty big deal.”
“Two hundred? I thought people were boycotting The Darlington.”
That was what I had read online, at least. I had downloaded several news and social media apps onto my phone to keep up with everything.
There had been regular news items about the Darlingtons even before the allegations against Richard, but the headlines had been harmless, focussing on the Pearl Gala and the Darlington brothers’ love lives.
Logan had been exempt—I could find nothing about him besides a few very old photographs and references to his restaurant.
Ethan, on the other hand, was everywhere, pictured alongside various women.
The articles about Henry usually concerned his relationship with Olivia Asterdam, but since the allegations against Richard had surfaced, media coverage had blown up and every tiny detail of the Darlingtons’ lives was being scrutinised and picked apart.
“These people like to make out that they sympathise with Richard’s victims, and claim they’re avoiding The Darlington because it goes down well with the press,” Rose responded, looking disgusted.
“But when no one’s watching, those hypocritical pricks treat themselves to overpriced tickets to the ball so they don’t miss out.
And they know it won’t damage their reputation, since there won’t be press there to document their presence. ”
“Just be glad ‘those hypocritical pricks’ are buying tickets at all. Their money keeps us in our jobs,” George said from the sofa.
I had ignored him until now, assuming he was asleep, but now he sat up.
He worked in the kitchen with Rose and wore the same white uniform.
“If you think they’re all so hypocritical, why are you still here?
” he asked. “Why aren’t you out there looking for another job?
Plenty of kitchens in London are hiring. ”
Rose’s jaw tightened. “Because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, and this hotel pays well. Believe me, if I could afford it, I’d be out of here before you could count to three.”
“Hey! No more resignations,” Rakesh protested, entering the room with a mug in his hand. The smell of cigarette smoke hit me as he headed past the table towards the coffee machine.
“As if you haven’t considered quitting yourself,” George said.
“Not once.”
“Liar,” Rose muttered so quietly that only I could hear.
“Have you read the latest interview on The Blackroom?” asked George.
Rose nodded. Rakesh grunted miserably before pressing buttons on the coffee machine, which awoke with a rattle.
“What’s The Blackroom?” I asked curiously. My online research hadn’t gotten me that far yet. Given the deluge of reports, it was hard to keep track of everything—I was sure I must have missed a few things.
His blond hair tousled from his nap, George rose from the sofa to sit at the table with me and Rose.
“It’s an anonymous blog that went online a few weeks ago.
It reports exclusively on the hotel and the Darlingtons.
Not very positive reports, I might add. Whoever runs the blog has insider knowledge.
Probably someone who works at the hotel. ”
“Or a former employee,” Rakesh interjected.
“In any case, it’s someone with contacts inside the hotel,” George said, reaching across the table to take a tomato from Rose’s plate. She batted his hand away, but he was too fast.
“What’s the interview about?” I asked.
“It’s anonymous, but whoever it is was talking about their experience with the family,” George said with his mouth full. He pulled out his phone. After tapping on it briefly, he slid it across the table to me, The Blackroom interview open.
I skimmed it. Richard was eviscerated, described as aggressive and condescending.
Ethan didn’t come off much better either—the interviewer referred to him as a selfish brat devoid of empathy, which I couldn’t entirely disagree with, thinking back to my first and only encounter with him.
Henry’s name came up as well. The interviewer was a little gentler on him, but he was still accused for not taking the allegations against his dad seriously and failing to critically distance himself from them.
I gave George his phone back. “If the interview is anonymous, isn’t it possible it’s all lies?”
“Everyone who has worked for The Darlington for any length of time knows everything that’s being said is true.”
“But Henry isn’t ignoring the allegations.” Even if he wanted to, it wouldn’t be possible. They had taken over his life.
Rose snorted. “Of course you’d say that.”
“That’s not fair of you,” I answered hotly, my stomach clenching. I felt an overwhelming urge to defend Henry. “You don’t know him—at least not the way I do. He’s taking the matter really seriously, and he’s doing his best.”
Rose grimaced. “And his best is to keep silent about what his dad has done?”
“What do you think he should do?” I asked. She made it sound trivial, like something that could be easily fixed. But if it were that simple, Henry would have done it already. “Is he supposed to tell the press that his dad is a monster, and then stand by as the hotel—his home—goes under?”
“You don’t know that would happen. Perhaps people would admire his courage and rally to save the hotel. It would be worth a shot, instead of dismissing the victims and indirectly hoping they’ll lose in court.”
“If Henry takes a public stance, it would ruin the hotel,” Rakesh said.
He sipped his coffee and joined us at the table.
“I’ve been at The Darlington for twenty years, and I spent five of those as a manager under Richard’s leadership.
I know the man and how he operates. If Henry openly defies him, he would see it as an unforgivable humiliation.
He would take his son and the hotel down with him, no matter the cost. His ego wouldn’t allow for anything else. Henry is doing everything right.”
Rose’s lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but either she had run out of arguments, or she didn’t want to fight with a superior. Instead, she rose from her seat and left the break room. George, Rakesh, and I followed her with our eyes, but none of us commented on her silent departure.