Page 4 of Unfounded

“I’m so sorry for the delay,” I say as I begin setting their drinks down in front of them. “I had a little accident on the way over.” I give each of them my best customer service smile as I place their drinks in front of them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Luke says kindly. “I saw what happened. The girl needs to pay more attention to her job and less to her phone.” I just grin at him in answer. It wouldn’t do for me to bash Laura to a customer even though I agree with his every word. I quickly get the other guests’ drink orders and take down their choice of appetizers. Luke orders for the group. I notice several of the men look so much like him. They have to be brothers, I think. They sure tease each other the way my childhood’s best friend’s brothers picked at her when we were growing up.

Once the order is in and I’ve brought out the other drinks, Icheck on my other customers. I give Luke’s newcomers time to look over the menu before I go back to take their meal order. I hurry back to the kitchen as soon as I have their order so the cooks can begin preparing their meals. While I’m there, I pick up the appetizers Luke ordered and drop them off. The men jump on the food as soon as I set it down on the table like they’ve been without food for days.

An hour later, the men are just finishing their meal. I begin to clear away their dishes, ask about refills on their drinks, and if they want dessert. The men are in deep discussion over security footage. I’m not trying to eavesdrop, but I can’t help overhearing their conversation when I’m clearing the table. I wonder once more what kind of business Luke runs. The men are all so serious in their conversation. One of the men mentions something about the angle the trajectory traveled and how they could use that information to determine where it came from. This increases my curiosity even more because his statement makes me think of the television series,C.S.I.The show is about a team solving crimes by using the same techniques these men are discussing.

Is Luke with law enforcement? I’ve never seen him in uniform or with a badge, so I don’t think he is, but perhaps he’s something else, like a private investigator or something. They pause when I’m gathering the plates but resume as soon as I begin to move away from the table. It all sounds very technical as they discuss judging the quality and validity of video footage. It’s all way over my head, so I don’t pay a lot of attention. I carry the dirty dishes to the sink in the back. I’m just about to head back out of the kitchen when the owner calls me to his office.

“Marley,” Mr. Conner calls out. “I need to see you in my office.”

“Yes, Sir,” I reply, changing direction. I’ve never been called into his office before, but maybe he’s just wanting to discuss how we’re going to cover Sally’s shifts over the next two weeks. As soon as I’m in his office, Mr. Conner closes the door behind us.

“Marley, I’ve gotten some complaints lately,” Mr. Conner begins, causing me to pause mid-way to my seat. Shock at what I’m feeling is an understatement. I’ve never gotten a complaint about my service in all the years I’ve worked here.Oh no!I think. Not here, too. First the bank, then the credit cards, and now my job.What’s it going to be next?

“What kind of complaints?” I ask as I take my seat, but I’m sure I already know the answer. I also know what he must be about to do, and I just can’t fathom the thoughts of being fired. I’ve worked here for five years. My co-workers are like my family.

“I’ve had several customers call and complain about your service, attitude, and even cleanliness,” Mr. Conner gives me a stern look. “Marley you’ve worked here a number of years now, and you’ve always been a good employee. When I got the first complaint, I dismissed it as someone wanting to get a free meal, but there have been over ten in the last two weeks. I can’t just ignore them. Now what’s going on? Is something troubling you?” Mr. Conner has always been a kind employer, but I can tell he’s beginning to believe the lies.

“Someone is out to get me,” I answer, deciding honesty is the best policy. “There have been a lot of crazy things going on in my life lately. Mostly financial issues for which I have no explanation of why they happened, things being moved in my house, and the sensation of being watched and followed. I’ve always given my customers the best service I possibly can, Mr. Conner. I promise you I haven’t slacked off or changed my attitude with customers. Someone is trying to cause me to lose my job.” Mr. Conner nods as he listens to what I have to say. “Please believe me!”

“I’ve never seen you be rude, lazy, or unclean,” Mr. Conner says after a minute of contemplative thought. “However, I can’t ignore the complaints any longer. If it were the same person calling each time, I could believe it’s just someone with a vendetta against you, but the voice and name has been different each timeI’ve gotten a call.” He sighs heavily. “I don’t want to let you go, Marley, but I’m beginning to feel like I don’t have a choice. The complaints are stacking up. I can’t afford to allow the restaurant to get a bad reputation. You know how things like this spread on social media like wild fire. It could ruin my business.”

My heart is beating wildly in my chest. This can’t be happening.Why is this happening?I try to think of something to save myself, but there’s nothing I can say or do to change Mr. Conner’s mind. He’s already decided what he must do. I sit in stunned silence as he says the words that put the final nail in my proverbial coffin.

“I’m sorry, Marley, but I have to let you go.” Mr. Conner’s voice is strained. I glance up at him, my vision blurry through the tears that I can’t manage to keep from falling. “Please get your things. I’ll have your final paycheck ready in a couple of days.”

I nod my understanding as I rise woodenly to my feet. My head swims as I turn to leave his office. Gripping the doorframe tightly, I’m able to keep my feet. Taking a breath, I grit my teeth to keep from sobbing. I walk to the back of the kitchen and get my purse. On auto-pilot, I walk out to my car and sit down in the driver’s seat. The tears keep falling as I sit there in complete shock.What on earth am I going to do?The ringing of my cell phone draws me out of my woes temporarily.

“H-hello?” I answer the phone attempting to hide my tearful state, but I know I’m not being successful. Even I can hear the anxiety and fear in my voice.

“Marley Morrison?” the voice on the other end of the line is unfamiliar. “This is Mrs. Cartwright” –the office manager of my duplex– “I’m calling about your rent. My computer is showing you haven’t paid in three months. I looked back over your rent history, and I know this isn’t like you so I wanted to see what is going on and see if we can get this cleared up?”

“I have paid!” I cry into the phone. This is just too much. I always make sure to pay my rent on time. “I have my receipts athome. The receipts you gave me when I paid you. I’ll get them and bring them to you in the morning.”

“If you say so, Marley,” Mrs. Cartwright replies, but her tone indicates she doesn’t really believe me. “I keep meticulous records. If you have paid, it would be in my system.” My heart nearly stops. I paid her directly, if she doesn’t remember me paying, even if I bring in the receipts, she could still say they’re fakes.What am I going to do?

“I’ll be at your office first thing in the morning,” I declare pulling my determination to the forefront. I may be a blubbering mess at the moment, but I’m not going to take this lying down. I’m going to fight for my reputation and find out the who, what, and why all of this is happening to me. The line goes dead, and I stare at my phone for several long minutes. I can’t stop the tears falling from my eyes. Despite my determination to keep my life from falling apart, it’s just too much. I need a minute to wallow in my misery. Then I’ll get myself together.

I cover my face with my hands in an attempt to block out all the bad that’s happening to me. I rest my head on the steering wheel as I sob harder than I ever have in my life. I’m not sure how long I stay with my head down resting on the steering wheel, but it seems like an eternity. I just can’t pull myself together enough to drive home. A knock on the window of my car frightens me, and I scream.Has my tormentor finally decided to come in person?I’m afraid to look, but I can’t stop myself.

LUKE

My chair hangs on the threshold of the door as I attempt to wheel myself out of the restaurant. Putting a little more force into pushing on the wheels of my chair, I roll out the door. I don’t want to admit it, but my mind isn’t on the meeting I just had with my brothers and the other two members of our security company. I’m pissed off and worried, but I don’t know what I’m going to do about it.

I need to be focused on the client and on a way to figure out who tried to eliminate them a couple of days ago, but instead my mind is on the beautiful waitress, Marley. She disappeared after clearing our table. The other waitress who caused Marley to drop her tray loaded with drinks brought us the check and looked as if she expected to collect Marley’s tip.

“I’d liketo speak to Marley, please,” I inform the girl. I’m not about to give this lazy kid the tip that Marley deserves for the great service she gave us. I always make sure to choose Marley’stable when I eat at the Bistro. I tell myself it’s because she’s worked there a long time, is a good waitress, and goes above and beyond to make sure her customers have a good experience. All of those things are true, but my reasons are deeper than just wanting to have a competent waitress. I like Marley. I’m attracted to her. She’s beautiful, kind, and very intelligent.

We’ve had a few conversations about random things when I’ve been eating alone or waiting impatiently for my brothers or clients who are running late. I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask her out, but I’m not sure she would want to date a man in a wheelchair. It’s kind of a relationship killer. Most women look at me with pity. They view me as less than. Someone they would have to take care of like an infant, which is completely untrue. I take care of myself. I cook, clean my home, drive anywhere I want to go, and run my own business. I don’t need someone to take care of me.

A couple of women I dated saw me as a project. They wanted to ‘help’ me to be able to walk again, like I chose to be in a wheelchair and haven’t tried everything possible to get back on my feet again. One woman kept sending me research studies on nerve regeneration even after I made it clear I was no longer interested in dating her. I’ve exhausted all the possibilities as far as being able to walk again goes. I’ve gained a lot of function back from when I first woke after the accident, but I’ll never walk again, and I’m okay with it now.

Marley, however, has never made me feel uncomfortable about being in a wheelchair. She doesn’t make me feel like I’m less of man. I’ve seen her looking at me with desire in her eyes. I was shocked the first time I saw it on her face. I thought she was looking at one of my brothers, because they are handsome men. They never have to look hard to find a woman for the night. Marley doesn’t seem to notice my brothers, other than waiting on them, but it’s different with me. The more I’ve gotten to knowher and spend time around her I know, it’s me she desires. We just seem to have some mystic connection. I felt it the first time I saw her. My heart skipped a few beats in my chest when our eyes met. The feeling intensifies every time I see her. I find myself missing her when I don’t see her for a day or two. She’s like a drug. I need a fix every single day.

“She’s not here,” the girl replies, reaching into the pocket of her apron to pull out her phone and look at it, typing quickly then pocketing it once more. I want to roll my eyes at her behavior, but I restrain myself.

“What do you mean she’s not here?” I demand angrily. “She was literally just here five minutes ago.”

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