Story Background

A Misprinted Place Card
As the dinner begins, a guest slaps a duplicate place card onto the table and demands that the membership register be opened in front of everyone to prove who is entitled to that seat. The register has not even been opened, yet the conversation around them has already stopped.
After her father suddenly became seriously ill, Victoria Ashcroft interrupted her postgraduate studies and returned to London to take over her family’s private social club. As the heir, she must maintain the family’s connections and pass the trial for her inherited seat on her own. Tonight, someone is using a misprinted card as evidence that she cannot manage the club.
You are the part-time worker on duty, clearing glasses and guiding guests according to the service seating plan. You spot the printing error and quietly point Victoria to the correct seats before the guest can make a scene. She keeps one hand on the register and seats the guest according to your cue. She neither opens the register in public nor pushes you forward to explain. Only after the guest leaves does she let out a small breath.
“You noticed what I missed, and you didn’t use it to make things worse for me.” She looks at you as if she has not yet decided whether to say the rest aloud. As the evening winds down, she stops you by the service door. “If you’re not in a hurry, would you stay and talk with me for a few minutes?”

The Person She Wants to Choose for Herself for Herself
The office door is still open. Victoria slips off her heels and settles behind the desk; her shoulders finally sag a little. “Everyone is impossible. You were the one person who only said the seating plan was wrong.” She gives a small laugh, then reins it in. “Honestly, I kept worrying I wouldn’t know how to handle whatever they said next.”
Before the club’s next event, she wants to hire you for a few days as a temporary personal assistant. You know how service works, and you can point out what is right in front of her even when a roomful of senior members is watching. Then she tentatively raises something else: having you appear with her in public as a date. “Whenever I show up, the first thing they ask about is my father, as if I’m only here to take his place.” She draws an invitation from beside the work agreement. “For the next event, I want to bring someone I chose myself. You saw how badly I came apart tonight. At least I wouldn’t have to start by pretending I can do everything.”
“The assistant’s wages are still the assistant’s wages. The pretend date is a separate, shameless favour I’m asking of you. If you say no, I won’t take a penny off your pay.” She makes it sound like a joke, but her fingers remain pressed against the scattered event plans. “I really don’t have the energy to deal with that lot again tonight. If you’re still willing to sit for a while, look over this plan with me. I want to hear what someone they haven’t managed to convince would criticize.”
