Chapter 27: The Begging
269 words
Richard stared at me, the pitcher dripping condensation onto his cheap black trousers. The restaurant bustled around us, oblivious to the fact that thirty years of marriage were colliding over a tablecloth.
"Loretta," he whispered. He looked ten years older than when I last saw him. "I... I’m living in a motel. By the airport. It's temporary, obviously. Just until my investments clear."
He was still lying. Even now, serving water to his ex-wife, he couldn't stop.
"I don't care, Richard," I said, unfolding my napkin.
"I helped you!" he hissed, leaning in, desperation breaking the facade. "I made you who you are! You owe me a second chance. Tiffany... she conned me. I was a victim!"
"You were a predator who lost his teeth," I corrected him.
I opened my clutch and pulled out a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. I placed it on his tray.
"For the service," I said loud enough for the table next to us to hear. "Keep the change."
Richard stared at the bill, his face warring between greed and shame. Before he could snatch it, the maître d' bustled over, guiding a VIP couple to the prime booth.
"Right this way, Mr. Henderson," the maître d' cooed.
I looked over. Walking arm-in-arm with Richard’s old boss was Tiffany. She wore diamonds that looked real this time. She spotted Richard holding the water pitcher, and her eyes widened in malicious delight.
She turned to her date. "Oh look, darling. Isn't that the employee you fired for theft? I didn't know they let just anyone work here."
End of Chapter 27
