Chapter 17 - The Owner Arrives
Close to midnight, the revolving doors pushed open, bringing in a flurry of snow and a figure bundled in a heavy coat. It was Eleanor Vance. She lived only a few blocks away and had walked through the treacherous conditions to check on her property.
She stood near the entrance, unnoticed in the managed chaos. She watched as the grand ballroom, usually reserved for elite galas, had been transformed into a warm, safe haven for stranded families. And at the center of it all was Brandon. He had taken off his uniform vest, his shirtsleeves rolled up, his tie discarded. He looked exhausted, carrying a tray of empty soup bowls, yet he was smiling warmly at a guest.
Eleanor didn't announce her presence. She quietly took off her coat, walked over to the makeshift coffee station, and began pouring cups for the remaining guests in line. When Brandon walked past and saw her, he froze for a brief second.
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"Ms. Vance," he said, surprised.
"We're running low on cream, Brandon," she replied casually, offering a small smile. "I'll fetch more from the kitchen. Keep up the good work."
