Chapter 8
“I said no.”
“Emily.”
“I serve coffee.”
“You also know what it's like to work three jobs and still worry about dinner. The room already has enough people like me.”
She stared at him.
That was the beginning.
Not of a fairy tale.
Not yet.
Emily joined the advisory board two months later.
She kept working at the diner.
Adrian stopped trying to convince her to quit.
Instead, he learned to sit at the counter without checking his phone every thirty seconds.
They argued about everything.
Housing.
Corporate charity.
Whether expensive bottled water was a crime against common sense.
Whether Adrian's apartment needed seven bathrooms.
“It does not.”
“There are six bedrooms.”
“Are the bedrooms drinking that much water?”
He laughed more around her than he had in years.
Months passed.
Then a year.
The Mercer Community Table opened its sixth location on a freezing January morning.
There were no reporters invited.
Emily insisted.
Adrian agreed.
At 7:00 p.m., after volunteers served the last bowls of soup, Adrian and Emily remained behind stacking chairs.
Adrian picked up a paper bag from the kitchen.
Emily looked suspicious.
“What’s that?”
“Dinner.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
Inside was chicken soup, bread, and half a turkey sandwich.
Emily stared at it.
Then she laughed.
“You remembered.”
“I remember everything about that night.”
Her smile faded into something softer.
Adrian reached into his coat.
Emily immediately pointed at him.
“If that's a diamond, I’m leaving.”
“It isn't.”
He pulled out a small paper receipt.
Wrinkled.
Faded.
Emily recognized the diner logo.
“You kept the receipt?”
“It was inside the bag.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked down at it.
“Because this is the most valuable thing anyone ever gave me.”
“It was eleven dollars.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“It cost you more than you could comfortably give.”
Emily went quiet.
Adrian continued.
“Everyone at that wedding knew my net worth. You didn't even know my last name.”
“Your last name would have made me keep the sandwich.”
“I know.”
“That was an excellent sandwich.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
Then Adrian reached into his pocket again.
This time, he removed a small ring box.
Emily stared.
“You liar.”
“I said the first thing wasn't a diamond.”
“Adrian Mercer.”
He laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“I spent most of my life believing love was something people proved by staying close to power. You taught me the opposite.”
He opened the box.