Chapter 3

The servers glanced at one another, and their resolve began to crack.

Marianne Lawrence the cashier looked over at the space across the street, three times the size of ours, her eyes darting for a moment, and she was the first to speak up to me.

"Boss, I think Chef Finch has a point. Once they're gone, there's no way this place survives. I've got a mortgage to pay, I really can't afford to be out of work. Today's my last day."

Once Marianne led the way, the rest of the servers started scrambling for reasons too.

"Boss, the truth is this place got popular because of Chef Finch and his people. Once they walk, there's no keeping the customers. You've been good to us this past year, I won't pretend otherwise, but that doesn't mean I have to go down with a restaurant that's about to fold."

"Boss, my wife just had our second kid, expenses are piling up, I can't afford to gamble."

"Boss, people move up in the world. Don't hold it against me."

Eight servers, five cooks, one cashier, one dishwasher. Fifteen people in all.

Fourteen of them handed in their resignations.

Looking at those familiar faces, something in me went cold.

Every one of them had been here since the day we opened, and over the past year I honestly felt I'd treated them well.

Wages double what other places paid, red envelopes at every holiday. If anyone had an emergency or a hardship, one word from them and I never hesitated.

But a few sentences from Clark Finch, and they turned on me without so much as a pause.

I didn't stop them.

Water flows down, people climb up. I understood.

Anyone who could be pried loose with a handful of words would leave today or leave tomorrow.

In the whole restaurant, only Aunt Erica hadn't said a thing.

Someone asked her, "Aunt Erica, you're not leaving?"

She shook her head, firm. "I'm Erica Lambert. I don't have much of an education, but I know who's good to me."

"Six months ago my son got sick out of nowhere and ended up in the hospital. I didn't have the money for the bills, and the boss quietly covered fifty thousand for me. Never said a word about it. I've kept that in my heart ever since."

Her voice was soft, but she held her back perfectly straight.

"A person can't forget where they came from."

"If I walked out today, I'd never sleep easy again for the rest of my life."

Clark Finch let out a scornful laugh.

"With a mind like yours, you'll be a lousy dishwasher your whole life, poor right into the grave."

"Let her stay and starve with Denise Simmons. Come on, we're going."

Once everyone had cleared out, it was just me and Aunt Erica left in the place.

The empty restaurant, tables and chairs lined up neat, and on the wall the group photo from opening day, the whole staff in it.

In the photo, Clark Finch stood right beside me, grinning wider than anyone.

Looking at it, I couldn't help thinking back to a year ago.

Finch had just started then, buried in debt, with his creditors chasing him all the way into the restaurant.

He had no way out. He knelt in front of me and begged, frantic.

"Boss, please, save me. My wife's in the ICU, it costs thousands a day, I only borrowed from loan sharks because I had no choice."

"I'm begging you, help me. Just this once, and I'll work myself to the bone for you the rest of my life!"

I helped him up and asked how much he needed.

He said two hundred thousand.

I transferred it without another word.

And I raised his pay on top of that. Other restaurants paid a head cook eight thousand a month. I gave him fifteen.

Later, when his wife was discharged, he brought her and their kid in to thank me, his eyes red.

"Boss, you're the one who saved my whole family. From today on my life is yours. Wherever you are, that's where I'll be. Anyone who crosses you, I, Clark Finch, will be the first to fight them to the death."

Such moving words.

Back then I really did think I'd found a man who repaid a kindness.

I never imagined that the same man who swore he'd work himself to the bone for me would one day stand against me with every last person from my restaurant behind him, unwilling to leave me even a way out.

I gave a self-mocking little laugh, took the group photo down off the wall, and tossed it into a drawer.

Right then, my father called.

"Denise, those subsidiaries under my group just expanded by more than eight hundred people last month. They'll probably be coming to your place to eat from now on, so get things ready for that."