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Shit.
I swallow my anxiety and force a calm look as I enter.
“Close the door,” she says.
Double shit.
I do so and hover in front of it.
“How are you doing?” she asks.
Surprised, I blink in confusion. “I’m okay.”
“Are you? I heard about what happened with the Ludlows.”
I look away and shrug. “It’s fine,” I say quietly. “It happens all the time.”
When I glance back, her face has melted into concern. “First of all, it’s not fine, and I’m sorry that happened to you. Second of all, just because somethinghappens all the timedoesn’t mean it’s okay.”
“You sound like Isabel,” I mumble before I can stop myself.
“Who’s Isabel?”
“My girl—roommate. Sorry. You’re right.”
“Why are you apologizing?”
I shrug. I honestly have no idea. Half the stuff I do and say now, I can’t explain. I’m a completely different person than the entitled brat who got arrested four and a half years ago. I also feel like a completely different person than the guy who left prison a week ago. I have absolutely no idea what to do with what’s happened in the last twenty minutes.
“Okay, well, you should know that I don’t care about your past. You did your time so that’s between you, the victim’s family, and the State of Pennsylvania. In the present, you are my employee, which means I have your back. Something like this happens again, you come to me right away, got it? If I have to crack heads, consider them cracked.”
I fight a smile as I nod.
“Good. One more thing. I saw you talking to Ashton.”
“Yeah, uh—”
“I’m glad. Keep talking to him. He’s going to be the best friend you’ll ever have, understood?”
Now, I really can’t stop a smile from spreading over my lips. “Got it. Thanks.”
She smiles back and holds out a slip of paper.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking what appears to beanotherdinner check.
“The revised check for Table Twelve. Go turn it in and get back to work.”
I glance down and my breath catches in my throat. The name on the credit card is no longer Ludlow but Alexander. And in place of “MURDERER” is a four and two zeros.
