“She is still standing.”
Marcus leaned against the wall.
“I don’t know how to help her.”
Ruth smiled.
“Perhaps ask.”
He nodded.
Then he looked at the dining room.
“I have something for you.”
Ruth raised an eyebrow.
He handed her an envelope.
She opened it.
The final payment for the holiday dinner.
Every dollar.
Ruth looked at him.
“You could have mailed this.”
“I wanted to bring it.”
She folded the check.
“Thank you.”
Marcus hesitated.
“And I want to work here.”
Ruth stared.
He smiled nervously.
“Not own it.”
“That is fortunate.”
“I want to understand it.”
Ruth studied him.
“What would you do?”
“Anything.”
“Dangerous answer.”
“I mean it.”
Ruth opened the office door again.
“Saturday. Six a.m.”
Marcus’s smile vanished.
“Six?”
“Breakfast prep.”
“I thought you open at eleven.”
“We do.”
“Why six?”
Ruth smiled.
“You said anything.”
