I took my girlfriend to a fancy dinner for our anniversary.

Dates.

Table numbers.

Names when she had them.

“Moved reservation without consent.”

“Guest pressured for cash fee.”

“Server refused birthday dessert after guest asked about menu price.”

“Wine spill. No apology.”

Our table was the last entry.

Martin took the notebook with both hands.

For the first time, his polished manager face cracked into something human continue reading …