Chapter 4 - The Dismissal and the Threat
For ten seconds, the entire restaurant was wrapped in a stunned, suffocating silence. Even the kitchen staff had stopped clattering pans behind the swinging doors.
Gary Vance stood frozen by the booth, staring at the empty seat where the old man had been sitting. A nervous twitch fluttered near the corner of Gary’s left eye. Harrison Vance? The name echoed in the back of his mind like a distant siren. Surely it couldn't be... Harrison Vance was a billionaire industrialist, a legendary shipping and real estate tycoon whose portrait hung in corporate boardrooms across the country. Billionaires didn't wander around Pittsburgh in frayed wool coats during a thunderstorm.
"Crazy old coot," Gary muttered aloud, trying to force a dismissive laugh to reassure the remaining customers. "Probably some senile retiree who found an expensive toy in an antique shop. Right, folks? Nothing to see here."
He turned his harsh glare back toward Leo, who was still standing by the table holding his empty service tray.
"And as for you, Carter—get out of my sight," Gary snapped, his voice recovering its aggressive edge. "Suspension starts right now. Drop your apron at the register, and don't bother showing up for your shift on Thursday unless you've learned how to respect management."
Leo didn't argue. He knew that arguing with Gary while the manager was in a blind rage was like shouting into a hurricane. Without a word, Leo untied the green canvas apron, folded it neatly, and placed it on the counter by the cash register. He grabbed his worn canvas jacket from the employee locker room, pulled his hood up over his head, and stepped out into the rainy Pittsburgh night.
The cold air hit him like a physical blow. The streetlights were still blurring the wet pavement, and the wind bit straight through his thin shirt, but the physical chill was nothing compared to the heavy, crushing knot in his stomach.
A week without pay. Rent was due in ten days. His mother’s insulin cost eighty dollars a vial out-of-pocket after insurance co-pays.
Leo jammed his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushing against something small and hard. He pulled it out under the orange glow of a streetlamp. It was the battered silver pocket watch with the cracked glass face that the old man had accidentally left behind on the edge of the booth when he stood up.
"He forgot his watch," Leo whispered to himself, staring at the intricate, old-fashioned engraving on the metal case.
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He considered running back inside to hand it to Gary, but the thought of facing the manager’s smug, angry face made his stomach turn. Instead, Leo slipped the watch safely into his inner jacket pocket, deciding he would figure out a way to return it to the downtown district headquarters tomorrow.
Little did Leo know, the events of that rainy night had already set off a chain reaction that would shake the corporate foundations of Pennsylvania.
