Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
O ne year earlier
During the few weeks I had been working at Joe’s diner I soon learned that when the boss asked you to do a double shift it wasn’t a question; it was an order. Unless you didn’t mind losing your job, you didn’t argue or object; you simply said “of course” and “thank you”.
It was almost midnight when the last customer finally left and I closed up for the night. By that time, I had been on my feet for twelve hours straight and would be expected to arrive at my second job—a laundry service for an upmarket hotel downtown—in less than five hours. But I didn’t mind. After losing my job as an assistant with one of the most prestigious investment companies in NYC, I was grateful I had a job at all. My previous boss had made the calls before I had even exited the building, wrecking my professional reputation so no other investment company would hire me, at least not until the investigation was completed.
Luckily for me, Joe wasn’t interested in my previous career or professional reputation. All he cared about was whether his employees were on time and pushed themselves to the brink of exhaustion for the minimum wage he was willing to pay. I assumed he had other means of income besides the diner, but that was something you didn’t comment on either. I worked all hours I could get my hands on, and yet the wage he was paying me was barely covering my monthly rent. The laundry job went toward taking care of my lawyer’s expenses. Any tips paid for food. My aching back and the blisters on my feet were part of my new life now, like an annoying fly you couldn’t be bothered to swat at.
I finished wiping the tables and proceeded to take out the trash when I glimpsed a small figure hovering outside the window front. I inched closer to the glass to get a better look.
The soft light coming from the streetlamp cast a golden glow on the woman’s face and clothes. She was dressed in a nondescript dark coat that seemed too heavy for her small frame. Her hair was light in color, maybe an ashen blonde or gray, I couldn’t tell from the distance.
Drug addicts weren’t a rare occurrence in this part of town. Some were more dangerous than others, and I couldn’t risk being mugged or worse—all for a few bucks that Joe would probably deduct out of my hard-earned cash. But there was something about her, maybe an air of dignity as though she hadn’t quite given up hope just yet, that instantly made me trust her enough to open the door.
“We’re closed,” I said through the open crack and pointed to the sign saying so.
“I didn’t realize it was so late already.” Her voice was melodious, thick with an accent I couldn’t place. Most likely British, Scottish or something like that. Despite my lack of expertise when it came to placing accents, I could tell from the way she talked that she had a certain level of education.
Curious, I opened the door just a little bit more and dared to venture outside. As I came nearer, I noticed she was older than I thought. The darkness accentuated high cheekbones that could only be the result of malnourishment or illness. Her eyes looked slightly sunken in their sockets, the effect exacerbated by the pallor of her skin. Whatever hardship had befallen her, it was a recent event and she hadn’t yet learned to push her pride aside and ask for help.
In that instant, I made up my mind.
“I think I have a few minutes to spare if you want to come in.” I pointed at the door behind me. “There’s some coffee left and a few sandwiches. They’re probably stale but still good.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
I took a tentative step forward and held up my hands, making sure not to startle her. “It wouldn’t be any trouble at all. You don’t need to pay for them either. We’d be chucking them out in the morning anyway. You can have them as long as you don’t tell my boss.”
The woman hesitated. I opened my mouth to persist when she nodded her head and smiled. “I’d like that.”
Once we were inside, I locked the door behind us and motioned her to settle at the counter while I filled a mug with stale coffee and handed her a sandwich I had prepared for myself earlier that day but had been too busy to eat.
I pushed the plate toward her. “If you don’t like it I’m sure I can find something else.”
“This will do, dear. Thank you.” She took a tentative bite and proceeded to chew slowly while her eyes kept searching mine, her gaze brushing over me repeatedly. Her expression remained solemn, betraying none of the thoughts going through her mind. I watched her as she ate in silence, letting her choose the moment she would start talking. Eventually, she put down her half-finished sandwich, and I pushed a donut in front of her.
“I’m Roisin,” she said by means of introduction. “Roisin Walsh.”
“Lori Crest. It’s nice to meet you.”
She threw me a hesitant smile. “Why are you working in a place like this, Lori? You seem like the kind of young woman who could do better than this.”
Her question took me by surprise. Out of all the things she could have asked, it struck me as a strange observation to start a conversation, not least because she knew nothing about me nor the type of person I was. Her tone was kind and worried, as though I was someone she cared about, not just a stranger she had met ten minutes ago.
I opened my mouth to lie, then closed it again. Her eyes were too sharp, shimmering with the kind of intelligence that would look right through me. Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t expect to see her again, but all of a sudden I felt a strong need to open up to her, tell her about my life and the problems I was facing. The heavy load of the last few weeks had taken its toll on me, pushing me to the brink of desperation. No matter how hard I had tried to fight my corner, the people who could make a difference had chosen to slam their door in my face. Even if Roisin had no power in my chosen profession, I wanted to open up to her because I felt she would believe me.
“I was doing better than this,” I started, choosing my words carefully. “Or so I thought. I worked all the way through college, dove right into a great job with an investment firm straight after getting my business degree. I was promoted within the first year, and earned my own accounts to handle.” I paused. The dark clouds of doom were gathering over my head again, making it difficult to breathe. That feeling of not getting enough oxygen into my lungs happened to me a lot lately.
“What happened?” Roisin asked.
“I started to notice discrepancies in the accounts and reported it to my boss. Before I knew what was happening, someone came across an offshore account with my name on it and lots of money disappearing into it. I got fired and have an investigation pending. It doesn’t look good.” I went on to tell her how the boss and his whole team thought I had been embezzling money from client accounts and it couldn’t be retrieved. The board wanted to file charges but they couldn’t risk damaging their stellar reputation, not without complete proof. In short, I owed money I had never touched.
“But it wasn’t you,” Roisin said softly.
“No, it wasn’t.” My gaze met hers and for the first time since my world had come crashing down I felt a glimmer of hope. If this stranger could see right into me, maybe others would too.
“I take it you’ve hired a lawyer?”
I nodded. “Yes. The cheapest I could find. Might not have been the best choice.” I didn’t add the fact that even someone as seedy as him seemed to have doubts about my credibility. Or why else would he choose not to return my phone calls most of the time and keep telling me to be patient and wait?
Do nothing. Let the legal system do its work. Those had been his exact words which I foolishly followed.
“If I’ve learned something about life it’s that difficulties have a way of sorting themselves out one way or the other,” Roisin said.
“I really hope you’re right.”
She placed her hand on top of mine. I looked down at the thin skin stretched over bony fingers and realized I had just dumped half of my life story on her while she was the one who was struggling to find her next meal.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I forced a smile to my face. “Enough about me. What’s your story?”
She returned the smile and something shimmered in her eyes. “There isn’t much to tell.”
“I doubt that,” I said. “Everyone has a story. Some are lighter, some are darker; but there is one in every person, lurking beneath the facade of normalcy.”
She pushed up to her feet. “Thank you. This was just what I needed.”
I didn’t know whether she was referring to the food or the conversation. But I could spy a cue from a mile away, and this was my cue to mind my own business.
“Sure. Feel free to stop by any time, particularly when the boss isn’t around.”
From the way she smiled I knew she wouldn’t take me up on my offer.
“It was good meeting you, Lori.” With that, she was out the door without so much as a look back, and I never saw her again.