Chapter 2 - The Waitress Who Refused His MoneySarah returned to work the next afternoon.
She expected to be fired.
Instead, the manager hugged her.
“You disappeared.”
“I was at Hollow Pine.”
Her manager's face went pale.
“You were where?”
Sarah regretted telling him.
“It's a long story.”
“Please tell me you didn't steal anything.”
“I slept in the wrong hot spring.”
He stared at her.
Then laughed.
Then stopped laughing when he saw her face.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Sarah returned to the dining room.
She had barely cleared two tables when a black sedan stopped outside.
Every waitress looked up.
A man in a dark suit entered.
He handed the hostess a white envelope.
“This is for Sarah Quinn.”
Sarah approached.
“I’m Sarah.”
The man nodded.
“Mr. Castellane asked me to give you this.”
Sarah opened it.
Inside was a check.
She stared.
The amount made her nauseous.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
She folded it immediately.
“No.”
The man's eyebrows rose.
“Excuse me?”
“I won't take it.”
“Mr. Castellane doesn't usually ask permission.”
“Then he can get used to it.”
She handed the envelope back.
The man looked almost amused.
“He said you'd refuse.”
Sarah frowned.
“What?”
“He asked me to tell you that if you refuse the money, you should at least accept the medical appointment.”
“What medical appointment?”
“Your mother's old hospital has a specialist who can review your brother's case.”
Sarah froze.
Her younger brother, Eli, had been diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease.
They had been fighting insurance denials for months.
“How does he know about Eli?”
The man's expression changed.
“I don't know.”
Sarah took the envelope again.
But there was no check inside now.
Only a card.
A phone number.
One sentence.
This isn't payment. It's an introduction. Use it if you need it.
She did not call.
Not that day.
Or the next.
On the third day, she did.
Not because she trusted Dominic.
Because Eli needed help.
The appointment was arranged in six hours.
The specialist reviewed the case.
Then ordered tests.
Sarah waited nervously.
When the doctor came back, he said:
“I think we've been treating the wrong thing.”
For the first time in months, Sarah felt hope.
She called Dominic that night.
“Thank you.”
He answered immediately.
“You're welcome.”
“You didn't have to do that.”
“I know.”
“I still don't want your money.”
“I didn't give you any.”
She smiled.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Dominic asked:
“How is your brother?”
“Better.”
“Good.”
She sat on the break room floor.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you needed help.”
“You do this for everyone?”
“No.”
“Then why me?”
He didn't answer.
Sarah smiled faintly.
“You're not very good at explaining yourself.”
“You ask too many questions.”
“You notice too much.”
“So do you.”
That silenced her.
“I noticed your shoulder,” she said.
“I know.”
“Did you see a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He agreed.”
Sarah smiled.
“Then I guess I saved a billionaire.”
Dominic laughed.
The sound surprised her.
It sounded younger.
Less controlled.
And she realized she liked it.
Over the next weeks, he began showing up at the restaurant.
Always alone.
Always at the corner table.
Always ordering black coffee and whatever bread Sarah recommended.
He never asked her to sit.
Never demanded her attention.
He simply appeared.
And Sarah began looking for him.
She hated herself for it.
Then came the night he wasn't there.
She kept glancing toward the door.
At 1:10, she finally asked another waitress.
“Did you see Mr. Castellane?”
Her coworker grinned.
“You mean your boyfriend?”
“He isn't my boyfriend.”
“Yet.”
Sarah rolled her eyes.
At 1:30, she received a text.
Couldn't make it tonight.
Nothing else.
She stared at the screen.
Then typed:
Are you okay?
She deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted again.
Finally:
Hope everything's fine.
His reply came seconds later.
Now it is.
Sarah felt heat rise to her face.
She hated how much four words could affect her.
She didn't know that night was the first time Dominic had looked at his phone in the middle of a meeting because he hoped her name would appear.
That was dangerous.
May you like
Not for her.
For him.
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