I CAUGHT THE MANAGER FRAMING MY DAUGHTER—AND HE CALLED ME “MOMMY” My daughter texted me from the walk-in pantry. “He’s accusing me of stealing. He’s calling the cops. I’m scared.” I didn’t call my husband. Didn’t ask questions. I just stood up from the penthouse dining table—where I’d been quietly posing as a mystery diner for a corporate inspection. I am not a guest of this hotel. I am its Chairwoman. And I had just received a live message from my daughter—my only child—being cornered by the ve

I CAUGHT THE MANAGER FRAMING MY DAUGHTER—AND HE CALLED ME “MOMMY” My daughter texted me from the walk-in pantry. “He’s accusing me of stealing. He’s calling the cops. I’m scared.” I didn’t call my husband. Didn’t ask questions. I just stood up from the penthouse dining table—where I’d been quietly posing as a mystery diner for a corporate inspection. I am not a guest of this hotel. I am its Chairwoman. And I had just received a live message from my daughter—my only child—being cornered by the ve