Chương 2
Then:
No I would not.
Ignore previous message.
Then:
I found $47 cash in my winter coat.
I covered my mouth.
“What?” Connor asked.
“My friend is conducting an emergency audit of her coat pockets.”
Evelyn’s expression softened.
“Tell her not to bring money.”
I texted Riley that I was safe and would explain soon.
The unfamiliar number remained.
It had sent only four words.
Did Jason really leave?
My thumb hovered above the screen.
“Something wrong?” Evelyn asked.
“I don’t know.”
I showed Connor the number.
He checked the reservation record on the computer.
“That’s Scott Thompson.”
A strange chill moved through me.
Scott had left with Dad.
At least I assumed he had.
I typed back.
Yes.
The reply came almost immediately.
Call me when alone.
I stared at it.
Evelyn read my expression before I said anything.
“Interesting?”
“Scott wants me to call him.”
“The man who walked out on the bill?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t do it for my sake.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d prefer everything concerning the account to be documented.”
She turned her monitor slightly.
“Your father made the reservation.”
I nodded.
“He also provided the card we have on file.”
I blinked.
“Then why didn’t you charge it?”
“Because it was declined.”
That surprised me enough that I forgot to be embarrassed.
“My dad’s card doesn’t decline.”
Connor and Evelyn exchanged a glance.
It was brief, but I caught it.
“What?”
Connor answered.
“We attempted the card twice.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Credit cards decline for plenty of reasons,” Evelyn said.
“It may mean nothing.”
My phone vibrated again.
Scott.
Please don’t call your father yet.
I read the message twice.
“My parents blocked me.”
Neither of them responded.
The kitchen timer began beeping again through the wall.
This time nobody stopped it for several irritating seconds.
Evelyn eventually pushed the bill aside.
“Here’s what I can do tonight.”
My hands tightened together.
“I’m going to document that you dispute responsibility for the charges and that you were not the person who made the reservation or provided the payment method.”
I waited.
“You’re not holding me here?”
“I’m a restaurant owner, Amber, not a hostage taker.”
My shoulders dropped before I could stop them.
“What about the bill?”
“I’ll deal with the people who incurred it.”
“I was at the table.”
“So were the flowers.”
I looked at her.
“They’re not paying either.”
Connor coughed into his fist, suspiciously close to laughter.
Evelyn printed two pages and gave me a pen.
“Read before you sign.”
That instruction alone felt unfamiliar.
At home, Dad put documents in front of me and tapped the signature line.
When I was nineteen, he opened a credit card in my name to “build my financial history,” then controlled the account himself.
When I questioned it, he showed me my credit score and asked whether I preferred gratitude or ignorance.
The memory arrived so suddenly that my pen stopped above the paper.
“Amber?”
I looked at Evelyn.
“Could my father’s card declining affect me?”
“Not unless there’s some financial connection between you.”
My stomach tightened.
“I don’t know.”
That sounded ridiculous.
At twenty-four, I should have known.
I signed the restaurant statement only after reading it twice.
Evelyn photocopied my identification, gave me a copy of the documentation, and placed Dad’s note inside a small plastic sleeve.
“Keep the original,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because people sometimes become creative about what they said after consequences arrive.”
Connor walked me back through the dining room.
My portfolio was tucked under my arm again.
At the entrance, I saw Riley through the glass doors before she saw me.
She was wearing pajama pants beneath a long wool coat and had apparently ignored every traffic law between Logan Square and downtown.
When she spotted me, she pushed through the doors.
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
“I know they’re gone.”
Her eyes swept the lobby.
“I meant the people trying to arrest you.”
“Nobody’s arresting me.”
Riley stopped.
“Oh.”
She looked almost disappointed.
Then she grabbed me.
The hug hurt.
I let it.
Over her shoulder, Connor gave me a small wave and returned inside.
Riley pulled back.
“I brought two hundred and forty-seven dollars.”
“You found more?”
“I remembered the emergency twenty in my glove compartment.”
“That’s for towing.”
“This qualified emotionally.”
I laughed again.
Then, without warning, I started crying.
Riley’s face changed.
She took my portfolio, tucked it under one arm, and guided me toward her car without saying anything.
She knew better than to tell me everything would be okay.
Everything had not been okay for a long time.
Her ancient Honda smelled like peppermint gum, dog hair, and the french fries she had eaten on the drive.
I sat in the passenger seat while she turned on the heater.
Neither of us moved.
After a minute, she said, “You can stay with me.”
“I live with them.”
“Not tonight.”
“My clothes are there.”
“Target sells clothes.”
“My computer.”
“We’ll get it.”
“My work.”
“We’ll get that too.”
I looked down at my phone.
Scott’s message was still open.
Please don’t call your father yet.
Another message appeared.
Amber, there are things you need to know before you go home.
Riley leaned over.
“Who’s that?”
“Dad’s business partner.”
“The one who abandoned you too?”
“Yes.”
“Block him.”
I almost did.
My finger hovered over the number.
Then a third message arrived.
Your father thinks tonight was about teaching you a lesson.
It wasn’t.
Riley read it beside me.
Her voice lost its anger.
“What does that mean?”
I had no answer.
For the first time that night, the restaurant bill no longer felt like the worst thing waiting for me.
Riley started the car but did not pull away from the curb.
The heater coughed warm air against my knees while traffic moved along the avenue in ribbons of white and red.
“Call him,” she said.
“You told me to block him.”
“I have evolved.”
“In forty seconds?”
May you like
“I contain multitudes.”
Her joke barely reached me.
