Chapter 6 - The Offer
Three weeks later, the Cobalt Lounge reopened private room four.
Donovan Pierce had been charged in connection with the stolen business information and unauthorized access scheme.
Raymond Vale was cooperating with investigators.
Carla had admitted her role.
And Lorenzo James had recovered enough evidence to challenge several corrupted contracts.
I was still waiting tables.
Mostly.
At 7:15 on a Tuesday, Lorenzo walked in.
Benny saw him.
“Oh, great.”
I looked over.
“What?”
“Your boyfriend’s here.”
“He is not my boyfriend.”
Lorenzo couldn’t hear Benny.
But he could read lips.
His eyebrow rose.
Benny immediately disappeared into the kitchen.
“Coward,” I called.
Lorenzo approached the bar.
Over the previous weeks, I had started learning ASL.
Badly.
I signed:
TABLE?
He signed back:
YOUR SIGN LOOKED LIKE YOU ASKED IF I WANTED A TURTLE.
I stared at him.
“You’re lying.”
He smiled.
That was happening more often.
He handed me an envelope.
I frowned.
“No.”
He signed.
YOU HAVE NOT OPENED IT.
“If there’s money inside, no.”
JOB OFFER.
I stopped.
“What job?”
He placed a document beside the envelope.
Client accessibility and security liaison.
I read it twice.
“You made this up.”
Lorenzo shook his head.
Martin wasn’t with him.
So Lorenzo typed on his phone.
My companies handle meetings involving Deaf clients, foreign clients, interpreters, confidential transcription and accessibility systems. We need someone who notices when procedures are being abused.
I typed back.
I’m a waitress.
His response:
You identified a four-month security breach while carrying whiskey.
Fair.
I looked at the salary.
Then looked again.
“Is this annual?”
Lorenzo nodded.
“Did you accidentally add a zero?”
He laughed silently.
I continued reading.
Health insurance.
Training.
ASL courses.
Paid certification.
I looked up.
“Why me?”
His expression became serious.
He signed slowly enough for me to understand.
Because you looked at me and changed your mind.
I swallowed.
He typed the rest.
Everyone else had already decided who I was. You were willing to discover you were wrong.
I stared at him.
Then signed:
I was terrified of you.
He responded:
I know.
You’re still terrifying sometimes.
He considered this.
Then:
Good.
I laughed.
Benny appeared with two coffees.
“Please take the job.”
“Why?”
“You’re terrible at carrying crystal now.”
I threw a napkin at him.
Lorenzo caught it.
Benny pointed.
“See? Better reflexes. Hire him.”
I signed the contract.
Then Lorenzo placed something else on the counter.
The five thousand dollars.
I stared.
“You kept it?”
He nodded.
“I told you I don’t want it.”
He pushed it toward me.
I pushed it back.
He pushed it again.
“No.”
He signed.
NOT DONOVAN’S MONEY.
I waited.
EVIDENCE RELEASED IT. I BOUGHT THE BET FROM THE RESTAURANT FOR ONE DOLLAR.
I blinked.
“You bought a five-thousand-dollar bet for a dollar?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
He signed:
BECAUSE YOU WON.
This time I took it.
My landlord received $2,840 the next morning.
The eviction notice came off my refrigerator.
I kept it anyway.
Not because I wanted to remember being poor.
Because I wanted to remember the night someone tried to use that poverty as a weapon.
May you like
And failed.
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