Chapter 14: Unfinished Business
By late afternoon, the dining room had quieted down, leaving only the soft murmur of jazz playing from the corner speakers and the distant clatter of pots being scrubbed in the kitchen. I sat at the round table near the back, the very spot where the broken cup had shattered weeks ago, going over the weekly inventory sheets with a red pen.
The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up expecting a regular afternoon diner, but instead saw Marcus stepping inside. He wasn't wearing his usual suit; instead, he wore a simple dark jacket, and his posture was relaxed, devoid of the aggressive edge he usually carried when trailing Julian. He walked directly to my table and placed a small, heavy manila envelope on the white tablecloth.
"What's this, Marcus?" I asked, setting down my pen and eyeing the envelope cautiously.
"An addendum to the property transfer from Mr. Vance," Marcus said, his voice level and professional. "It covers the structural repairs for the foundation we discussed yesterday. Julian wanted you to review it before we file it with the city clerk on Monday."
I picked up the envelope, sliding the flap open to reveal detailed architectural blueprints alongside the legal forms. Every detail was accounted for, down to the historical preservation of the brick facade. It was thorough, fair, and entirely legitimate—far beyond what any corporate raider would offer a small neighborhood restaurant.
"Tell him I'll look it over tonight and have Arthur sign it by tomorrow morning," I said, sliding the papers back inside.
May you like
Marcus nodded once, turning to leave, but paused before reaching the door. He glanced back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. "For what it's worth, Clara... he hasn't looked like that since his father passed away. Don't ruin it for him."
Before I could formulate a reply, the door swung shut behind Marcus, leaving me alone in the quiet dimness of the dining room. I picked up my red pen again, but my hand hovered motionless over the paper. The bruises around my eyes had faded to a faint yellowish hue, reminders of a past I was finally leaving behind, yet the sudden warmth in my chest felt entirely new and dangerously fragile. I leaned back in my chair, looking up at the glittering crystal chandelier overhead as the afternoon light slowly gave way to the deep indigo of dusk.
