Chapter 2
“She clearly came here just to scam the free bread refills!” the younger woman barked. “Tiff, we should record her and post it online. See if she ever dares to pull this crap again!”
“Yeah, let’s expose this kind of trash. People like her come in every day to take advantage. Gotta teach them a lesson.”
It didn’t take long for me to figure it out–this woman had replaced the entire staff with her own relatives.
“We paid for our food!” my five–year–old nephew suddenly piped up, summoning his courage to peek out and speak. “We didn’t eat for free!”
The room went silent for a second.
“Oh please,” one of the waitresses snapped. “You call that paying? One bill for five people? Only someone like you would think that’s okay.”
“Stealing’s in their blood.” another sneered.
My eyes drifted to that woman’s chest, where a name tag read: Tiffany Monroe.
I froze.
I remembered seeing that name in Nathan’s phone a month ago. Saved under “Ms. Monroe (VIP Client).”
I had asked him then, half–joking, “New client?”
He didn’t flinch. “Yeah. Big deal for the business.”
So it had all started back then.
I stepped forward, my voice sharp. “Watch your mouth. Once your husband gets here, I’d love to see what he’s going to do to me.” Tiffany’s eyes widened, and her voice shot up a few decibels, wild with fake indignation.
“Watch my mouth? Try learning some manners yourself!”
“You really think my husband would want someone like you? You think you can seduce him with that cheap face of yours, dragging four little brats into my restaurant to mooch food?”
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She circled around me like a vulture, shrieking as she pointed and spat insults loud enough for half the diner to hear.
“I get it now! You saw the place was run by a man and thought you’d trade your body for the meal, didn’t you? That’s your game, huh?” “Looking like that, I bet you’ve slept with half the men in the city. My husband’s loyal–he wouldn’t touch trash like you even with a ten–foot pole.”
Her voice cut through the restaurant like a blade.
“Everyone, look over here!” she shouted. “This shameless woman brought four kids two refills! What kind of person does that?”
‘,
ordered one plate of food, and had the nerve to get
Tiffany was practically foaming at the mouth as she pulled out her phone and shoved it in
face, camera rolling.
“I’m going to post this parasite online so the whole world knows. Let everyone avoid women like you–the scum of society.”
A murmur spread through the dining room as onlookers started to chime in.
“Even if the kids don’t know better, the adult should! This place is a business, not a soup kitchen.‘
“Exactly. Could’ve ordered something else. Just one plate? That’s not just cheap–that’s disgusting.
“If every customer did this, how’s the restaurant supposed to survive?”
The kids cowered beside me, terrified and humiliated by the strangers‘ stares and judgment. Chapter 2
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I pointed toward the table we’d just eaten at. “We ordered five dishes and a soup. Paid over a hundred dollars. We added one plate of bread. And the menu says bread refills are free.”
“Our request was within reason. Tiffany, if you can’t handle managing a diner, then shut your mouth and wait for your husband to get here.”
But she didn’t even look where I was pointing.
Instead, she shoved her phone closer to my face and screamed, “Look at her! She still won’t admit it. Five people eating off one plate of bread and she’s still lying through her teeth!”
Then she turned to the crowd like she was leading a crusade, waving her phone in the air.
“Come on, everyone! Hurry up and post this online! People need to know about trash like this so they can stay away.”
Almost instantly, half the customers and her staff raised their phones and started filming.
I looked down at my nieces and nephews—already shaken–and the thought of their faces being plastered online made my blood boil. I stepped forward and shouted, my voice cutting through the chaos.
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