Like a diligent schoolboy, I sat listening to Diana as she walked me through the general etiquette of hosting, her tone bright and unhurried.
"You must always remember a few basic things," she began, counting each rule with her fingers:
"One: Smile and be polite.
Two: Be courteous, but never unsure. Confidence and warmth go hand in hand.
Three: Don't wear your emotions on your face. No guest wants to see a sulking host.
Four: Compliment them, but don't overdo it. Keep it elegant.
Five: Never offend the guest, no matter what.
Six: The guest is king. Even if they're being a royal pain in the ass, apologize.
Seven: Stay laser-focused on their needs.
And eight: Answer their questions concisely. No rambling."
She finished with a knowing smile, her fingers splayed in front of her like she was counting blessings, not rules.
I rubbed my chin, frowning. "What if the guest is deliberately trying to be difficult? Feels like that might be the whole point of this 'assignment.'"
Diana laughed softly. "Oh, that's more common than you think. These white-collar elites love power plays. Say they order a sidecar, and when it arrives, they insist they asked for a Bloody Mary or a Planter's Punch. It's a test, a game, or sometimes just arrogance. You can't argue or defend yourself. Just take the hit and move on. Say, 'I apologize. I must've misheard. Please allow me to replace your drink immediately.' That's it."
I winced. "That's downright unfair."
She shrugged, her smile turning a little wry. "It is. Hosting is nothing but high-class babysitting with a smile. Welcome the guest, serve their needs, take their crap, smooth their egos. Most of them are arrogant and entitled. But we're trained to handle them."
"It's not an easy job."
"No job is," she said with a shrug, then added more gently, "But you're not a server by trade. You're a chef, Tony. So if it gets overwhelming, hand things over to the servers. There will be three on the floor tonight, and if things go south, I'll be nearby. Don't hesitate to call."
"Thank you," I said, genuinely.
She nodded and spent the next few minutes giving me a crash course on hosting essentials. Her demeanor was calm and composed. I could see why she was chosen for this role. She made you feel like even the worst night could be handled with grace.
After the basics, she asked for the cocktail menu. That's where things got trickier. I didn't need a deep dive into the food, that was my arena, but the cocktails were foreign territory. Three base spirits, twelve cocktails, four under each, with their own origin story, garnish, prep method, and the specific brand of alcohol used. Just trying to keep up was giving me a headache when—
RING.
The sudden shrill ring of my phone startled both of us. I glanced down.
Robbie.
I shot Diana an apologetic look, but she waved it off with a pleasant, "Take your time."
I answered. "Hey, what's up?"
His voice came out smooth and careful. "What are you doing?"
That question had more layers than he probably realized. I hesitated. "Just... working."
"Did I disturb you?"
"No, no. It's fine. Was there something you needed?"
"Yeah," he said, his voice dipping into something softer. "About the other day... I'm sorry. I lost it. That wasn't my intent."
"It's okay," I cut in quickly. I didn't want to rehash that mess. I was equally at fault, and dredging it up wouldn't help either of us.
"If you say so." He paused. "I was wondering if we could have dinner tonight. You, me, and Twen."
I blinked. Like a family dinner?
"Robbie... you know there's an event tonight, right?"
He paused. "Event? What event?"
"The cocktail party, that's happening tonight."
"No, that can't be. The Brodus event is next week."
My stomach dropped. "This is different. The Chairman gave the order this afternoon. It was sudden, and it threw the entire kitchen and the event team into chaos. We're all scrambling."
There was a beat of silence, then Robbie muttered, "Why the hell wasn't I told? I run the goddamn resort."
I hesitated. "Maybe... maybe it's because of the argument you had with him? I don't know. But it's happening tonight."
"What the fuck is he up to now?" Robbie's voice was barely more than a growl. "I haven't seen him in four days, and now this?"
"You should probably talk to him directly," I said carefully, eyeing Diana, who was waiting patiently with a half-smile. "I've got to get back."
"I've got a meeting, but after that, I'm calling him. Tony, be careful. I don't trust him. Stay in the kitchen if you can. Don't put yourself out there more than you have to."
"I'll be fine. Don't worry. Just focus on your work. Let's talk later."
I ended the call before he could say anything else. There was no way I could tell Robbie the full extent of it. He'd cancel his meeting, show up at the party, and cause a scene. I couldn't be the reason for another father-son standoff. Moreover, the truth about my relationship with Robbie would come to light if matters escalate.
Diana was still waiting, calm and unreadable.
I smiled and walked back to her, doing my best to bury the tension.
***
RESORT ELEGANCE – POOLSIDE
Evening arrived faster than I anticipated. The poolside was nothing short of spectacular. Soft lights twinkled like quiet stars, elegant high tables stood poised under the open sky, the bar gleamed like polished obsidian, and the music was mellow, seductive, perfectly pitched. You wouldn't believe this was all thrown together in a matter of hours.
Normally, events like this are planned two weeks in advance, with final circulars going out at least two days ahead. This one had maybe six hours of prep time: chaos condensed into precision. And yet, the team had pulled it off.
Diana and I arrived two hours early. I couldn't help but admire the event team's efficiency. They were absolute professionals.
"Tony," Diana said, "I had the team prepare a host's uniform for you. You should go change. Once you're ready, I'll give you a quick run-through on the entry protocols."
The nerves hit me all over again. This wasn't my world. I could command a kitchen, run a brigade, and design a menu blindfolded. But this… I felt like an impostor.
Still, I followed her quietly. She brought me to a wiry young man with a clean-cut boyish face.
"This is Andrew," Diana said. "He's one of the servers for tonight. He'll help you with the logistics."
"Nice to meet you, Tony," he said, extending his hand.
"Likewise," I replied, shaking it.
"You can count on me. Let's make this a successful night," he added with a grin.
"I'll try not to screw it up," I said, forcing a more confident smile than I felt, and took the uniform from him.
Time to play pretend.