Friday afternoon, Roland sent over a string of room numbers.

"Relatives have arrived. Book the rooms for them."

The tone took it for granted, as if I still owed it to his whole family to clean up their messes.

I forwarded him the price list.

"Pick the room types yourself."

He came back with three question marks.

"The front desk knows you. Have them open the rooms first."

"The hotel only accepts confirmation from the person responsible."

He called.

"Lorraine, everyone coming today is family of mine. You're making me go handle the front desk myself?"

"Whoever pays for the rooms is the one who confirms them."

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

Then he listed the room types.

"Six executive rooms, four suites."

I had the front desk send him the order.

Once he'd signed, another message came through.

"My cousin wants the lounge booked out for the night. Set up the game room and spa passes too."

I forwarded it to Kayla.

Kayla had the service department itemize the costs.

"Buyout, twenty thousand. Game room, sixteen thousand. Spa passes, eight hundred each."

I sent the list to Roland.

He replied:

"All of it."

I answered:

"Please confirm the groom is responsible for the charges."

He sent back one word.

"Confirmed."

Rosamond followed with a voice message.

"The marital suite needs the full red bedding set, dragon-and-phoenix candles on the nightstand, double-happiness cutouts on the door, and candied dates and peanuts laid out in the room."

I sent over the open-flame policy.

She typed back, cursing me.

"Who do you think you are, throwing rules at me now? Every time you came through my door, wasn't it always my word that counted?"

"You're being asked to help put on a wedding, and that's Roland doing you a favor. You really think a divorce means you get to stand up straight in front of me?"

I didn't argue. I just had the concierge department contact her directly.

But she wouldn't let it go, and fired off another list of demands.

"Send me slippers, ten more sets of makeup remover, and three late-night snacks tonight."

I turned the requests into a service order.

Roland called once he saw the charges.

"You're charging for little things like this too?"

"Late-night snacks, supplies, labor. Everything has a price."

"You never used to nickel-and-dime like this."

"Before, you were my husband. Now you're a client."

Rosamond's voice came through in the background.

"Why waste your breath on her? She's just jealous, isn't she?"

"Roland, the more you fuss over money, the more she thinks she's got you where she wants you. Spend what needs spending. We do not cut corners on this wedding. I want her to see with her own eyes how well you live without her, and I want her to know Delia is walking into a spread she couldn't have earned in this lifetime."

Roland was silent for a moment.

"You heard her. Do all of it."

"And don't think a few bills are going to scare me. Lorraine, the money you make, part of it was always mine to begin with."

I sent one more line.

"Please confirm."

He paused two seconds.

Then he added another line.

"Happy now? Counting money is about all you've got left."

Delia posted photos of the marital suite on her feed.

The caption read: The ones who are cherished don't have to worry about a thing.

Someone asked in the comments:

"Why is the ex-wife still there running around at the venue?"

I didn't reply.

I pulled together three months of supplementary-card charges.

The total came to ninety-seven thousand six hundred forty.

I sent the spreadsheet to my lawyer.

In the middle of the night, Kayla forwarded a voice message.

Rosamond had sent it to the wrong group.

"She's paying this time whether she wants to or not. She's got a company, she's got hotel connections. So what if she covers a wedding for my son?"

Kayla asked:

"Do you want me to let her know she sent it to the wrong chat?"

"No."

I replied in the hotel group.

"Received. Logged."

Roland messaged me privately soon after.

"Don't take what my mom said seriously."

"Lorraine, don't push this too far."

"However harsh my mom is, she's still an elder. If you dare make trouble with that recording, I promise you'll never land a single job in this industry again."

On Saturday morning I saw the welcome board at the hotel entrance.

The head coordinator line had my name on it.

And underneath, someone had added a small line of text on purpose:

"The groom's ex-wife, assisting throughout."

I told the staff to take it down.

The staff member said,

"Mr. Delgado has already confirmed it."

I called Roland.

"Take my name off."

"You're the head coordinator. Putting your name there is perfectly normal."

"I'm not on the wedding staff."

"I'm giving you face. Don't be ungrateful."

"Your face is yours to carry."

I hung up.

Rosamond came over with the cash gift registry.

"You're the sharpest one with numbers. You handle the gift table."

"I don't collect cash gifts."

She slapped the sheet into my hand.

"A woman like you, divorced and still won't clear off. No wonder nobody wants you."

I handed the sheet back to her.

"Your family's cash gifts. Log them yourself."

Rosamond raised her voice.

"Everybody come look at this. My son divorced this woman, and she's still clinging on, shameless."

I aimed my phone at her.

"Keep going. I'm recording."

She shut her mouth at once.

Delia's parents came over.

Leona Hughes asked me,

"Miss Sullivan, is the bride's table count confirmed?"

"Twelve tables. The list is already with the front desk."

Ferdinand Hughes nodded.

"Thank you for the trouble."

I handed him the contract.

"I handle the coordinating. I don't handle the payments."

Ferdinand glanced at Roland.

Roland explained with a smile.

"She's my ex-wife. She never got over me after the divorce. When she heard I was getting married, she insisted on coming to help."

I didn't respond and kept on with what I was doing.

Before the ceremony started, the emcee brought over the program script.

I spotted one line in it.

"Grateful to the one who let me go, so I could find today's happiness."

I asked the emcee,

"Who changed this?"

"Mr. Delgado just handed it to me."

I sent a photo of the script to Roland.

"Delete it."

He wrote back,

"It's for the wedding's effect."

"You don't want to hear it. The guests do."

I called the emcee aside.

"Any program change gets re-signed by the groom."

The emcee handed the confirmation slip to Roland.

Roland looked at me.

"You really have to settle accounts today?"

"You really have to rewrite the script today."

He signed.

Once the emcee took the stage, Roland picked up the microphone.

"A failed marriage taught me to cherish. Today I've finally met the right person."

His eyes settled on me.

Rosamond led the applause.

Delia stepped down from the stage with a glass of wine.

"Lorraine, drink a letting-go toast."

She held the glass out in front of me.

Her friend held up a phone, livestreaming.

"If the ex-wife won't drink, she can't walk away from this today."

I pushed the glass back.

"Unscheduled interaction. There's a fee."

Delia's expression changed.

"You're charging money for this too?"

"No wonder Roland dropped you. A normal woman going to her ex-husband's wedding at least has some shame. But you, it's money every time you open your mouth."

"Emcee script change, unscheduled interaction, livestream camera position. All of it gets a new signed slip."

Roland reached out and took the confirmation slip.

"How much?"

"Eighty-six hundred."

He glanced back at the guests.

"Give it to me."

"Please confirm this is covered by the groom."

He signed his name.

I took the slip back.

"The livestream camera can't film me."

Delia's friend said,

"You sure like to run things."

I had Kayla notify security.

"Delete any footage that involves me."

Roland lowered his voice.

"After today, we're square."

I looked at the pen in his hand.

"After today, you settle today's bill first."

Once the banquet tables filled, Roland's coworkers crowded in to toast him.

Someone praised him.

"A second wedding, and he still throws a spread this big. Mr. Delgado's got real talent."

Roland raised his glass.

"My family's backing me, that's all."

I had a server hand him the drinks upgrade slip.

He pointed at the standard bottles.

"Switch these for the vintage. Every table."

The server read out the price.

"That's an extra twenty-four hundred per table."

Roland took the pen and signed.

"You really have to announce a sum this small? Lorraine, you've been broke so long you think everyone counts pennies like you do."

Delia stepped over to his side.

"The bride's relatives would like to take party favors home. Miss Sullivan won't be too stingy to spring for it just because it's her money, will she?"

Rosamond joined in.

"Add a box of premium seafood for every family. We can't have the in-laws thinking we're cheap."

I handed Roland the gift-box price list.

"Twelve hundred a box, eighteen boxes."

"Add them."

"Please sign."

He glanced at Delia.

"Sign it."

Delia's father asked, "Roland, anything else for the VIP table?"

Roland immediately called a server over.

"Open a VIP hall."

"We'll want tea service, drinks, and staff."

"Arrange all of it."

I passed over the VIP hall list.

"Cigars, tea service, drinks, service charge. Thirty-six thousand total."

Rosamond gave a cold laugh.

"Spelling it out so carefully. Are you afraid we can't afford it, or afraid you'll have to pay a cent yourself?"

Roland signed his name.

His coworker praised him again.

"Nobody could pull off a spread like this. Not even the owner of your ad agency."

He smiled with his glass in hand.

"Enjoy yourselves tonight, everyone."

Kayla set the itemized bill in front of me.

Seven hundred sixty-eight thousand, three hundred.

I checked the accounts.

Thirty-seven signed slips in all.

Every one of them carried Roland's name.

As the banquet broke up, Roland picked up the two cash-gift bags.

He walked to the front desk and pushed the bill across to me.

"Run the supplementary card like always."

"You finish the paperwork."

I didn't touch the bill.

"Settle the hotel first."

Roland laughed.

"Lorraine, drop the act."

"We're divorced. You've really got the nerve to make me pay?"

Rosamond hollered at the guests who hadn't left yet.

"She volunteered to plan my son's wedding."

"Quit playing so noble. Divorced, and she still can't let go of my son."

I took a step back.

Kayla walked up to Roland with finance and legal.

She set the bill down beside the cash-gift bags.

"Mr. Delgado."

"Your wedding banquet came to seven hundred sixty-eight thousand, three hundred."

"The groom is to settle it in full himself."