Chapter 7 - The Table Nobody Feared Anymore
One year later, Leon’s had competition.
Mine.
Bennett’s opened two blocks away.
Nothing fancy.
Warm lights.
Good food.
Fair prices.
My mother handled the books.
Noah worked weekends while finishing school.
Henderson came in once.
I charged him full price.
Carlo, after cooperating with prosecutors and serving his sentence, wrote me an apology letter.
I answered.
Not because I had forgotten.
Because I didn't want anger owning space in my life forever.
And Dominic?
Dominic became my most annoying customer.
He entered Bennett’s at 8:03 on our first anniversary.
No bodyguards inside.
Dark suit.
Black shirt.
Tattoos visible above the collar and along both hands.
Conversation didn't stop anymore when he entered.
That had taken time.
He had sold several businesses inherited from his father and shut down the parts he couldn't defend in daylight.
Some people said he was becoming legitimate.
Dominic said he was becoming boring.
I preferred boring.
He sat at table four.
Naturally.
I approached.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Sparkling water. No ice.”
I stared at him.
He sighed.
“Please.”
“Better.”
“And the short ribs.”
“We're out.”
He looked genuinely offended.
“You own the restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“Make more.”
“No.”
“Daisy.”
“Would you like to hear the specials?”
He narrowed his eyes.
I smiled.
“One year and you still haven't learned.”
He stood.
Then I noticed how nervous he looked.
Dominic Vance.
Nervous.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“That is absolutely your guilty face.”
“I don't have a guilty face.”
“You do now.”
My mother suddenly appeared from the kitchen.
Noah followed.
Then Dominic reached into his jacket.
The entire restaurant went quiet.
Not from fear.
From curiosity.
He placed a small velvet box on the table.
I stared at it.
“Dominic.”
“Before you panic—”
“I'm not panicking.”
“You're holding a fork.”
I looked down.
I was.
I put it down.
“Continue.”
He opened the box.
A simple diamond ring rested inside.
Nothing ridiculous.
Nothing enormous.
Exactly what I would have chosen.
Dominic looked at me.
“The first night we met, you told me powerful men forget the people serving them are still people.”
“You were rude.”
“I was.”
“Extremely.”
“I remember.”
“Good.”
“Daisy.”
I stopped teasing.
His voice softened.
“You challenged me when everyone else feared me. Then you refused my money, negotiated my rent, criticized my coffee, and somehow convinced my mother to call you instead of me.”
“She likes me better.”
“Everyone does.”
I smiled.
He continued.
“You never asked me to rescue you.”
“No.”
“You demanded I stand beside you while you rescued yourself.”
My eyes burned.
“Dominic…”
“I don't want someone who obeys me.”
He took my hand.
“I want the woman who never did.”
He lowered himself onto one knee.
The restaurant went completely silent.
“Daisy Bennett, will you marry me?”
I stared down at Chicago’s once most feared man.
Then I remembered my first week at Leon’s.
The terrified waiters.
The silent dining room.
The fork.
The arrogant stranger who had looked at me and said:
Say that again.
So I smiled.
“Say that again.”
Dominic laughed.
People around us started laughing too.
He shook his head.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
My mother screamed.
Noah applauded.
Someone dropped a glass.
Dominic stood and kissed me.
Later that night, after everyone had left, we sat together at table four.
My father’s old recipe box rested behind the counter.
The restaurant was paid on schedule.
No favors.
No debts.
No fear.
Dominic lifted his coffee.
“Still terrible.”
“You drink three cups every night.”
“That doesn't make it good.”
I leaned against him.
“You know what I realized?”
“What?”
“The first night we met, everyone thought you were the dangerous one.”
He looked at me.
“And?”
“They were wrong.”
Dominic smiled.
“Daisy?”
“Yes?”
“I figured that out when you picked up the fork.”
Outside, Chicago moved beneath the lights.
Inside, the man everyone once feared sat beside the waitress who had refused to fear him.
May you like
And table four was just a table again.
Exactly the way I wanted it.
