Danny’s cheeks went red.
“How rich is he?”
Ethan did not answer quickly enough.
“That rich.”
“Danny…”
She looked at Gus.
“Cover me.”
Gus nodded.
Danny walked into the kitchen.
Ethan sat there feeling ashamed in a way he was not used to.
People became angry with him professionally.
Tenants.
Sellers.
Contractors.
Lawyers.
Anger usually meant conflicting interests.
This was different.
He had participated in making someone’s kindness into entertainment.
Five minutes later Danny returned.
“I need to work.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Good.”
“Does Walter know I know?”
“Not yet.”
“Tell him not to come here in that costume again.”
“It wasn't…”
Danny looked at him.
“Do not defend the coat.”
Ethan nodded.
“Fair.”
He paid exactly the bill.
Tipped twenty percent.
Left.
Walter received Danny’s message secondhand that afternoon.
James delivered it carefully.
“She knows.”
Walter closed his eyes.
“And?”
“She said if you come back dressed like that, Gus may hit you with a pan.”
“That sounds like Gus.”
“She is angry.”
“She should be.”
Walter took the seven dollars from his wallet.
He had carried them since the day at the diner.
James noticed.
“Return it.”
Walter looked at the money.
“I intend to.”
“Soon.”
Walter nodded.
But he did not go that week.
He understood one thing Ethan sometimes did not.
An apology offered before the other person is ready can become another demand.
Ethan kept going to Gus’s.
Danny nearly asked him to stop.
Then did not.
Partly because customers were customers.
Partly because she discovered she enjoyed arguing with him.
Their conversations grew.
He learned her name was Danielle Mercer, though nobody had called her Danielle since middle school.
She had worked at Gus’s for six years.
Before that, community college.
She left before finishing an associate degree in business administration when Frank Mercer developed heart failure.
For two years she worked mornings at the diner and evenings handling his appointments.
After he died, she intended to return.
Then rent went up.
Her car needed transmission work.
Life kept moving the finish line.
“You going back?”
Ethan asked one morning.
Danny refilled his coffee.
“Eventually.”
“That means no.”
“That means eventually.”
“What do you want to do?”
She shrugged.
“Maybe manage this place.”
“Gus isn't immortal despite his diet.”
From the grill Gus yelled:
“I can hear you.”
Danny continued:
“Maybe own something small.”
“Restaurant?”
“Maybe.”
“You enjoy this?”
She looked around.
“I enjoy people.”
“Food’s fine.”
Gus yelled again:
“You are both banned.”
Ethan laughed.
Danny learned about him too.
Not simply that he was rich.
He explained he worked in property development.
“That sounds like a profession invented to make rent higher.”
“Sometimes it does.”
“At least you're honest.”
He told her about Chicago.
About returning after his mother died.
About Walter expecting him to join the company eventually and Ethan refusing until he had built his own résumé.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know I could.”
“Could what?”
“Be successful without him.”
Danny thought.
“And did you find out?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you still sound like you're proving it?”
Ethan stopped.
Danny walked away before he could answer.
That was her talent.
She could put a question inside you and move on to booth six.
By February, Ethan knew which mornings Danny worked.
Danny knew he drank coffee without sugar and disliked mushrooms.
Neither called what was happening dating.
Then Ethan asked: