Chapter 2
The conversation in the private room kept going.
I didn't leave, because I couldn't. My legs felt like they were made of lead, and I was rooted to the spot, pressed against the pillar behind the service window, unable to move.
"And another thing." Ryan's voice suddenly went cold. "Remember, until I decide to spill the truth myself, nobody helps Claire, and not a word about this leaves this room.
"I don't care if she begs or passes out in front of you. Don't lift a finger. Emily will start asking questions if you do."
Someone cleared their throat awkwardly. "But what if Claire can't take it anymore?"
"If she can't handle it, she can take a break for a couple days, then get back to it," Ryan said calmly. "She's always been a tough one. She'll survive."
Eric stayed silent.
What he didn't know was, last month, I spent seven hours standing outside his office.
It wasn't that I refused to leave. My legs were so numb that I couldn't move.
When the security guards finally dragged me away, I took a fall. When I got up, I saw a raw, bloody patch on my knee.
In the end, I never got that two hundred bucks.
I ended up hauling bricks at a construction site for two days to get the cash.
Ryan couldn't miss a single painkiller shot.
Back then, that was the only thing that kept me going.
Now, thinking about it, the whole thing felt like a cruel joke.
The private room door burst open.
Someone walked out.
I recoiled instinctively, colliding with the head waiter rushing over from the kitchen.
The tray slipped in my hands.
Three plates of food and two bowls of soup crashed down with a loud clatter.
Shards scattered everywhere, and soup splattered across the hallway carpet.
The head waiter's face instantly darkened.
She slapped me hard, and I stumbled back.
"Are you blind or something? Do you have any idea who comes through here?" She grabbed my collar and shoved me down. "Scrub it. Use your hands."
I collapsed. The shards of porcelain stabbed into my knee, right on top of the old wound from last month that still hadn't healed.
That was when Ryan stepped out of the private room.
He strode out quickly, the sharp sound of his dress shoes echoing across the marble floor.
He didn't glance my way, because from the other end of the hallway, the clicking of high heels and a girl's laughter floated over.
"Ryan," Emily Saunders called out. She fluttered over like a butterfly, clinging to Ryan's arm.
She was wearing a sequined dress, her earrings sparkling under the lights. I recognized the brand. It had been on display in the boutique window downstairs at the Grand Crest Restaurant for a whole month, priced at thirty thousand dollars.
"Didn't we agree you'd wait for me at the hotel? Why did you come up here yourself?" Ryan's voice instantly turned gentle, a world away from how icy he'd been minutes earlier in the private room.
"I wanted to surprise you," Emily said.
She bounced up on her toes, affectionately straightening his collar. "Ryan, did you get everything ready for my birthday party the day after tomorrow? I want a pink theme, and the cake has to be seven tiers."
"Of course, it's all taken care of. How could I let my little princess feel disappointed?"
I was only three steps away from them.
The head waiter was still gripping my arm, berating me.
Emily's gaze swept over and lingered on my face for less than a second. Then she looked away.
She recognized me.
I saw the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of her mouth.
"Ryan, this place is so dirty. Let's get out of here," Emily said.
"Alright, let's go," Ryan replied.
He put his arm around Emily and led her toward the elevator.
A pair of shiny dress shoes brushed right past my hand.
He didn't stop.
He didn't spare me a glance.
He never realized it was me. Or maybe he did, but it didn't matter to him.
The head waiter hauled me to my feet. "Those dishes add up to over three thousand dollars. We'll take it out of your paycheck this month. You're only making 1,300 dollars, so whatever's left will come out of your next month's pay."
I nodded.
"And the soup stain on the carpet? You're staying after your shift tonight to clean it up," she added.
I nodded again.
Back in the kitchen, I buried my face under the cold water from the sink.
The freezing water was shaking me to my core, but I didn't cry.
Guess even my tears figured I was too poor to waste on.