Chapter 5
The paper said I was giving up any claim to No. 18 Willow Lane, of my own free will.
"What if I refuse to sign?" I asked.
George leaned against the table.
"Then I'll send that video of you making a scene today to your boss at the restaurant. She already thinks you're a pain to deal with," he said.
"What else?"
"Isn't your brother about to start his new job?" George said, his tone icy. "I've got a friend over there. Don't let your stubbornness screw things up for your family."
I slowly set the paper down.
"Now you're dragging my brother into this too, George?" I said.
He frowned. "You left me no choice."
*****
Early the next morning, I went to work at the restaurant.
My boss lady Sasha Tanner called me over to the back door.
She handed me her phone.
On the screen, I was standing at the entrance of Maple Yard Café, claiming the place was mine.
There were already a bunch of comments.
Some people were saying I was totally obsessed with money.
Others said George was a good guy, just being pestered by his ex.
Some people said the owner of Maple Yard Café was gentle and generous, but was getting pushed around by her broke relatives.
Sasha looked at me.
"Jennifer, is this true?" she asked.
I asked, "Do you believe it?"
She had a cigarette between her lips, but didn't light it.
"All I know is, you've worked here for two and a half years. If you ever undercharged for a bowl of pasta, you'd always pay the difference. You're not the type to scam people," Sasha said.
My eyes started to sting.
She took her phone back. "But the restaurant has to stay open for business.
"Some people called in, saying you have a bad character. I can keep you on until the end of the month, but after that, you'll have to sort things out on your own."
I nodded.
"Thanks, Sasha," I said.
She cursed under her breath.
"Don't thank me. If I didn't have a family to feed, I'd march over to that damn café with a kitchen knife and demand answers," Sasha said.
Lexi Meyer, the kitchen helper, came over.
"Hey, do you really have any proof?" she asked.
"I've got a bit," I said.
"Well, let's see it then."
"It's not enough yet."
Lexi stomped her foot in frustration. "They're roasting you online."
I tightened my apron.
"Let them rant for now," I said.
During the lunch rush, Maya showed up.
She was wearing a plain white dress, with two people filming her from behind.
"Jennifer," she called out from the entrance, her voice soft but loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'm here to apologize to you."
I froze, holding a bowl of soup.
Sasha looked up from behind the register.
"Apologize for what?" Sasha asked.
Maya's eyes were brimming with tears. "Sorry about yesterday, there was a misunderstanding.
"That café isn't mine. George made it happen with a lot of hard work. I was just helping out. If you're having a tough time and need something, we can talk, but please, stop hurting him."
All the customers turned to look at us.
The cameraman shoved the camera right in my face.
I set the bowl down on the table.
"Miss Mitchell, George said you're his cousin," I said.
Maya looked surprised.
"Yes," she said.
"Which side of the family?"
She glanced at the people beside her. "Family ties are complicated."
I smiled. "You two sound like you memorized the same script."
Someone chuckled softly.
Maya's face went pale.
"Jennifer, why are you being so harsh?" Maya asked.
Sasha stepped out from behind the register.
"If you want to film, do it outside. I'm selling pasta here, not tears," she said.
Maya bit her lip. "I just want to fix things."
"Alright. Isn't Maple Yard Café throwing their three-year anniversary party the day after tomorrow? Have George show everyone the ownership papers, payment receipts, and a video of Rodney signing the deal. If he can prove it, I'll apologize," I said.
Maya stared at me.
"What if he can't?" she asked.
"If he can't, then you take the sign down," I shot back.
Word spread like wildfire through Oak Street.
George didn't come home that night.
He called me over a dozen times, but I didn't answer any of them.
*****
The next afternoon, he was waiting for me at the back door of the restaurant.
"What do you really want?" he demanded.
I tossed the trash bag into the bin.
"I want to see proof," I said.
"Do you have to blow this up?"
"You were the one who put the video out first."
"That was Maya's friend who uploaded it."
"How did her friend even get a hold of my video?"
George's jaw clenched. "Cut it out, Jennifer. You just saw the café making money and now you regret giving me the money back then."
"Then pay me back."
"I will."
"Pay me back today," I pressed.
He was cornered, and after a long pause, he finally muttered, "I spent all the money on the café."
"So who actually owns the place?" I asked.
"It's mine," George said, his voice turning steely. "The papers have my name on them."
I looked him dead in the eye. "When you pressed Rodney's hand to the stamp that day, was he even lucid?"
George's expression shifted.