Brianna frowned. "Try it again. It's a high-limit card."
Beep. Beep. The waiter's polite mask slipped, replaced by a sneer. "It's not the limit, Ma'am. Perhaps, the card's... empty."
He eyed Brianna, she didn't look like an impersonator, so it wasn't likely a theft. "Do you have another card? I'm sure this could be an issue with the card."
Reaching into her purse, she handed him another card. Still, there was no response. She handed him another, and just like that, her whole ten back up cards declined.
The waiter began looking anxious. His first day on the job and he was already facing this. He had heard from his colleagues situations like this lead to The Man collecting thirty percent of the pay.
He wouldn't let this woman ruin his full salary. He looked at her meal, she had just a salad of three hundred dollars. Since he was doing dishes for the week, maybe he could pay for her meal if she did them in exchange.
Brianna on the other hand, remained shocked under the waiter's scrutinizing gaze.
There had to be some sort of explanation with the bank. She was about to speak when the waiter spoke first.
"If you can't pay the three hundred dollars for your lunch, perhaps you should head to the back. We have plenty of pots that need scrubbing."
...
"Reservation for Blythe."
The receptionist smiled politely at the charming man before her. "Yes. Just a second, Mr. Blythe. I'll ask the ladies to check if the assigned chef have arrived."
Brian Blythe nodded before turning to the group of older men he was treating.
"Mr. Blythe, you take good care of us." One of the business investors laughed, tapping Brian's shoulder lightly.
"Of course—"
"Ma'am, if you can't pay with money, you have to pay with your service."
"How dare you?! You want me to do d-dishes?"
Brian was taken aback by the familiar voice. The drama seemed to have drawn the attention of everyone at the reception.
Brian felt angry when he recognized Brianna. The business investors all looked displeased.
"Mr. Blythe, you said this restaurant was known for its privacy."
"This doesn't look private to me. Customers who can't pay for meals and waiters' telling those customers to do the dishes. Meaning anyone can come in here to eat cause they'd just do the dishes." Another investor clicked his tongue irritably.
Brian squeezed the leather strap of his briefcase so hard his knuckles turned white.
'What is wrong with Brianna?'
The receptionist cleared her throat, dropping the phone after the confirmation call. "The room is prepared, Mr. Blythe. The Chef is ready for you."
Brian kept his eyes locked on Brianna, the veins in his temple throbbing. "Take the gentlemen to the suite," he commanded.
"I have a call to make. I'll join you in a moment."
Once the investors were ushered away~their judgmental whispers echoing as they left~Brian walked toward the commotion.
"Is there a reason my sister is being asked to scrub floors in a place I pay thousands to frequent?" Brian's voice was low, vibrating with a cold, suppressed rage.
On the other hand, the waiter's face went pale as he stood frozen. "S-sir, she—the cards, they all—"
Brian didn't wait for the explanation. He pulled his own gold card from his wallet and slammed it onto the table with a sound like a gunshot.
"Swipe it. Take the payment and a five-thousand-dollar tip for the 'service' you provided," Brian hissed. He then turned his gaze to Brianna with eyes that were filled with searing contempt.
His gaze made the "porcelain skin" of her face flush bright red.
"Brian, I—the bank must have made a mistake—"
Brian rolled his eyes, leaning in so only her could hear. "The only mistake here was you showing up. Look at the embarrassment, Brianna. Everyone in this restaurant know who I am. And you're standing here with my face, haggling over a salad like a common beggar. Did you really have to come to a place you can't afford?"
Brianna flinched as if she had been struck. A place she couldn't afford? She was a regular here; the only reason this escalated was because this waiter didn't know her.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he reached into his pocket, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and threw it onto the table beside her half-eaten salad.
"Take this. Find yourself something to eat later. And for God's sake, stop embarrassing yourself with an act like this."
Then he walked away before she could say anything else, leaving her utterly speechless.
She looked down at the handful of cash. This was an insult. Did he think she was the same person who had called him, back in college?
Scoffing, Brianna picked up her bag, leaving the cash on the table. She had better things to worry about. Like why her cards were being declined.
As soon as she stepped out of the restaurant, she pulled out her phone. She needed to call the bank to find out who had dared to touch her personal assets. But her bank manager's contact wasn't the first thing she saw.
There, glowing on the screen, was a text sent an hour ago.
"Mrs. Colburn!"
Brianna's eyes momentarily glanced briefly at Rochelle standing next to the 'fearless attorney' she talked about, at the entrance of her favorite café.
She nodded in acknowledgement before returning her gaze back to her phone.
Crossing the street, Brianna tapped on the text she had missed from Lucian's assistant, while she was busy being humiliated.
[Thomas: President Lucian requested your presence days ago. Since you have refused to comply, all joint accounts, credit lines, and secondary assets have been frozen effective five minutes ago. You have sixty minutes to present yourself at the hospital for the meeting. Every minute you are late, another one of your personal accounts will be liquidated. Clock is ticking, Mrs. Colburn.]
Brianna's heart skipped a beat. Sixty minutes?
But this was over an hour ago.