Chapter 2 - THE NAME ON THE PAPER
Vincent turned slowly.
“What did you say?”
David looked terrified.
But not terrified enough to shut up.
“You heard me.”
Mom grabbed my shoulders.
“We're leaving.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Emily.”
She froze.
It was the first time he'd used her name.
“What's he talking about?”
“Nothing.”
David laughed.
“Ask her.”
“David, shut your mouth.”
“Ask her why this restaurant exists.”
Vincent's eyes narrowed.
Mom pulled me toward the office.
One of Vincent's men stepped sideways, not blocking us, but making it clear nobody was disappearing.
Mom's voice cracked.
“I don't want trouble.”
David pointed toward Vincent.
“You brought trouble to my restaurant.”
“I didn't bring him anywhere.”
David looked at me.
“You did.”
Mom moved in front of me.
“Don't you look at my daughter.”
Vincent stepped between them.
“Enough.”
The entire dining room had gone quiet.
David's guests were staring.
Servers stood frozen near the kitchen.
Vincent removed Mom's work log.
“Five thousand four hundred thirty dollars and thirty cents.”
David rolled his eyes.
“It's payroll.”
“It's theft.”
“It's complicated.”
Vincent looked around the restaurant.
“You're serving thirty-dollar pasta while your employee's kid is marking hunger nights with crayons.”
“Purple pencil,” I corrected.
Vincent glanced down at me.
“Purple pencil.”
David's jaw tightened.
“I'll pay her.”
“When?”
“Friday.”
Mom laughed.
A strange sound.
Tired and angry.
“He's said Friday for two months.”
David spun toward her.
“You should be careful.”
Vincent's face changed.
“Careful?”
David realized too late.
“I didn't mean—”
“You just threatened her in front of me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Vincent stepped closer.
David backed into the bar.
Vincent's voice stayed calm.
“That was careless.”
A waiter hurried from the kitchen.
“Mr. Sterling?”
“Not now!”
“Sir, there are two men in your office.”
David went pale.
“What men?”
“They said they're auditors.”
Vincent looked at one of his bodyguards.
The man shook his head.
Not Vincent's people.
David ran toward the office.
Vincent followed.
Mom didn't.
She grabbed me.
“We're going home.”
“But our money.”
“I don't care.”
“You do care.”
“Rory.”
“You cried.”
Her eyes filled.
“That doesn't mean you walk up to gangsters.”
Vincent stopped near the office doorway.
He heard her.
“So that's what you call me?”
Mom looked horrified.
“I—”
“Relax.”
He nodded toward me.
“Your daughter called me worse.”
“I did not.”
“You called me the real boss.”
“That was nice.”
One guard laughed.
Vincent almost smiled.
Then shouting erupted from David's office.
“No! You can't take that!”
A man emerged carrying a cardboard box.
Another held a laptop.
David rushed after them.
“Who authorized this?”
The taller man showed a badge.
“State Department of Revenue.”
David stopped dead.
Vincent's eyes sharpened.
“Tax problem?”
“None of your business.”
“Apparently everything is my business today.”
The agent looked at Mom.
“Emily Carter?”
Mom stiffened.
“Yes?”
“We need to speak with you.”
David shouted.
“No, you don't!”
Vincent stepped in front of him.
The agent continued.
“Ms. Carter, your employee identification number appears on payroll records showing you've been paid every Friday for the last eleven weeks.”
Mom stared at him.
“That isn't true.”
The agent opened a folder.
“According to these records, you signed every check.”
Mom's face drained.
“I didn't sign anything.”
David backed away.
Vincent noticed.
“So someone forged her signature.”
The agent said nothing.
But his silence said enough.
Mom looked at David.
“You stole my wages and made it look like you paid me?”
David's mouth opened.
Closed.
Then the rear door slammed.
Everyone turned.
David Sterling was gone.
Vincent pointed at two men.
“Get him.”
The bodyguards ran.
I looked at Mom.
She looked like she might fall.
Then one of the revenue agents handed her a photocopy.
She stared at the signature.
Her name.
Her handwriting.
Almost perfect.
But not quite.
Then her eyes moved to the account number printed beneath it.
She whispered,
“I know this bank account.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Whose is it?”
Mom slowly raised her eyes.
May you like
“David's wife.”
And outside, a Porsche engine roared to life.
