At three o’clock, Bianca walked into Trent’s office and left the door halfway open.
Nora stood near the service station.
Through the glass, she saw Trent look at the apology card.
“I cut your Friday and Saturday shifts because you defended another employee in front of me,” he said.
Bianca’s face did not change.
“I described those cuts as staffing adjustments. I also blocked two applications you made for management training.”
Bianca’s eyes moved.
Trent continued.
“I wrote that you were emotionally reactive.”
“You mean after the plate.”
“Yes.”
“The customer threw it at the wall beside me.”
“I know.”
“You told me I should have de-escalated him.”
“I know.”
Bianca folded her arms.
“Do you?”
Trent looked down.
Nora could not hear his next sentence.
Bianca answered loudly enough.
“No.”
Trent looked up.
“No what?”
“No, I don’t forgive you.”
His shoulders dropped.
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You were about to.”
“I was going to say I’m sorry.”
“Then say that.”
He did.
Bianca waited.
Nothing changed.
No relief.
No neat ending.
She opened the door.
Before leaving, she turned back.
“You know what the worst part was?”
Trent did not answer.
“I believed you. When you said I wasn’t leadership material, I believed you.”
She walked out.
Nora followed her into the hallway.
Bianca’s hands were shaking.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Do you want to go home?”
“No. I have table six.”
She wiped under one eye and returned to the floor.
At five thirty, Trent was gone.
His laptop and company phone remained on his desk.
A white envelope rested on top.
Nora opened it.
Three sentences.
He resigned effective immediately.
He waived severance.
He asked that the remaining three people receive written apologies.
Arthur called while she was holding the page.
“How many?”
“Eleven.”
“I thought you gave him fourteen.”
“I did.”
“Are you disappointed?”
Nora looked through the glass toward the dining room.
“No.”
She had not created the thirty days to break him.
She had wanted him to see people instead of labor percentages.
Maybe eleven names were all he could manage.
“What are you doing with his office?” Arthur asked.
“I have an idea.”
The next morning, Nora called Bianca upstairs.
Bianca stopped at Trent’s empty doorway.
His nameplate was gone.
“You fired him?”
“He resigned.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
Nora handed her a folder.
Bianca did not open it.
“I don’t want another surprise.”
“This one pays more.”
She opened it.
ASSISTANT FLOOR MANAGER — SIX-MONTH DEVELOPMENT APPOINTMENT
Bianca stared.
“I’m not qualified.”
“You completed every required training module.”
“That’s online training.”
“You’ve also worked this floor for three years.”
“I still don’t know half the things managers do.”
“Then you’ll learn them.”
Bianca looked toward the empty office.
“Is this because you feel bad?”
“No.”
“Because I defended you?”
“No.”
“Because the video went viral?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because Trent wrote that you weren’t leadership material, and I wanted to know whether he was right.”
Bianca’s mouth opened.
“So I checked your work.”
A long silence.
“And?”
Nora slid a key across the desk.
“You start Monday.”
Bianca picked it up.
It was the key to Trent’s office.
She closed her hand around it.
“What happens if I’m terrible?”
“Then we’ll have an honest report for once.”
Bianca laughed.
It was the first time Nora had heard her laugh without looking over her shoulder.
Then she glanced at Nora’s apron.
“The leaf is back.”
Nora touched the silver pin.
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
Nora unclasped it.
“Come upstairs Monday,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
