The bell above the door of Lou's Diner jingled cheerfully, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had filled the SUV cab.
Earl held the door open for her. The diner was warm, smelling of frying bacon and old coffee. It was late, so the place was mostly empty, save for a trucker dozing in the corner and a waitress wiping down the counter.
Earl guided her to a booth in the back. Red vinyl seats, cracked in the corners. Formica table. It was the kind of place where billion-dollar deals were made in whispers to avoid wiretaps.
Faith slid in. She felt exposed without her white coat. Just Faith. Just a tired woman in a hoodie trying to hide a secret that could topple an empire.
The waitress, a woman in her fifties with hair dyed a shocking shade of purple, wandered over with a pot of coffee.
"What can I get you folks?"
Earl didn't look at the menu. "Black coffee for me. And a hot chocolate for her. Extra whipped cream. Shaved chocolate on top if you have it."
Faith froze. Her mouth opened slightly.
The waitress winked. "You got it, hon." She walked away.
Faith stared at Earl. "How did you know?"
Earl took off his coat, revealing a black dress shirt that clung to his chest. He folded his hands on the table. "The dossier. Page 4, subsection 'Preferences'. You drink it when you're analyzing market trends."
Faith felt the blush start at her toes and rocket up to her hairline. She looked down at the table, tracing the scratches in the laminate. "I was... younger then."
"You have a sweet tooth when you're stressed," Earl corrected. "I noticed."
"You noticed a lot for someone who was supposedly focused solely on the merger."
"I notice everything about my investments, Faith."
The drinks arrived. Faith wrapped her hands around the thick ceramic mug. The heat seeped into her frozen palms. She took a sip. It was sweet, rich, and comforting.
Earl watched her drink. He didn't touch his coffee.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, putting the mug down. "The rescue. The ride. The hot chocolate. What do you want, Earl?"
Earl reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a thick, manila envelope.
He slid it across the table.
"Open it."
Faith hesitated. "What is it? A lawsuit? A subpoena?"
"Just open it."
She undid the clasp. She pulled out the papers.
It wasn't a lawsuit.
It was a stack of documents.
Top sheet: A copy of a Trust Fund establishment. Beneficiary: unnamed minor.
Second sheet: A private investigator's report. Photos of a small house in the suburbs. Photos of a swing set.
Third sheet: A new Non-Disclosure Agreement. Far stricter than the first.
Fourth sheet: A bank statement. A transfer of five million dollars into an escrow account.
Faith looked up, her blood turning to ice. "You know."
"I know there is a child, Faith." Earl said. "I know you've been hiding him."
"He's not..."
"Don't lie to me. Not about this."
He leaned forward.
"I know you're scared," he said softly. "I saw it in your eyes at the hospital. You think everyone leaves. Or you think everyone wants something from you. You think I'll use him as leverage."
Faith shoved the papers back into the envelope. Her hands were shaking again.
"You don't know me, Earl. You don't know my life. You don't know what the Board will do if they find out there's an heir. They'll tear him apart."
"Then tell me."
"My life is a mess!" Her voice cracked. "My identity is compromised. The Board has hired private contractors to find 'The Leak'. If they connect me to the Oracle sabotage, and then connect me to the boy..."
She pushed the envelope back to him.
"You're a businessman, Earl. You calculate risk. He is a liability. You deserve someone... uncomplicated. Someone who doesn't come with baggage that will drag you down."
Earl didn't take the envelope. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his.
"I don't want uncomplicated," he said. "I spent ten years building a monopoly, Faith. Peace bores me. I like a challenge."
"I'm not a challenge. I'm a disaster."
"You're a survivor," he said fiercely. "And as for your baggage..." He shrugged. "I can carry heavy things. And I protect what is mine."
Faith stared at him. She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to believe him. But she knew the corporate world. She knew the reality of her world. It corrupted everything it touched.
"I can't," she whispered. "I can't let you get hurt. Or him."
She stood up. "Thank you for the drink. And the ride. But... please. Just let me go."
She didn't wait for an answer. She turned and walked out of the diner, the bell jingling mournfully behind her.
Earl didn't follow. He sat there, sipping his black coffee, watching her go. He checked his watch. 3, 2, 1.
Faith stepped out onto the sidewalk. The wind hit her face, drying the tears that were threatening to fall.
Stupid, she told herself. Stupid, stupid girl. You just walked away from the best protection you could ever afford.
But I had to. To protect my son.
She turned up her collar and started walking toward the bus stop.
