My daughter texted me from the restaurant kitchen, terrified: “Mom, the new manager’s accusing me of stealing cash! He’s calling the police!” I typed back “Lock yourself in the storage room. I’m coming.” I didn’t call my husband. I simply stood up from the dinner table—where I’d been sitting as a mystery customer for an inspection. From the silent, climate-controlled sanctuary of the Elysian's penthouse suite, I, Anna Vance, observed my kingdom. I was not a guest; I was a ghost, the Chairwoman o