My parents told me there wouldn’t be “ENOUGH SPACE” for me at the annual family gathering. But then they invited 88 people. All six of my siblings, their families, in-laws, even cousins and friends. I didn’t say a single word. Instead, I ACTED. Hours later, my mother started screaming…

“What?” Robert roared. “Where is the food? Where is the wine?”

The doorbell rang again. And again.
Cars were lining up in the driveway. A Bentley. A Mercedes. The Senator’s limousine.

Panic, cold and sharp, seized Linda’s chest. “Call Sarah.”

“I tried!” Jessica shrieked. “Her phone goes straight to voicemail!”

Robert grabbed the house phone and dialed Delizia Catering. He put it on speaker so everyone, including the confused Millers, could hear.

“This is Marco,” the voice boomed.

“Marco! This is Robert Whitaker! Where the hell are you? We have eighty people standing in my driveway!”

There was a pause on the line.

“Mr. Whitaker? I don’t understand. The contract was cancelled yesterday.”

The silence in the hallway was absolute.

“Cancelled?” Linda whispered. “By who?”

“By the client. Sarah Whitaker. She invoked the cancellation clause. She paid the kill fee and voided the order. She said…” Marco hesitated.