Chapter 1 - THE WOMAN AT THE SINK
Connor Hayes grabbed Amber Mitchell by the upper arm and dragged her away from the table.
“No money and you eat here?”
Amber stumbled after him.
“Let go of me!”
He did not.
The dining room behind them glittered with chandeliers, crystal, white flowers, and the remains of the dinner her parents had ordered before walking out.
Two bottles of wine.
Tasting menus.
Imported caviar.
A private dessert service.
Total:
$14,280.
Her father had stood up after dessert and said:
“Maybe washing dishes will teach you what independence actually costs.”
Her mother followed him.
They left Amber at the table.
No warning.
No card.
No answer to her calls.
Now Connor shoved the kitchen door open and pointed toward a wall of dirty plates.
“Get down there.”
Amber stared.
“What?”
“Work off your debt.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Wash.”
He pushed a rack of plates toward her.
“My parents left me.”
“Not my problem.”
Amber’s throat tightened.
She had thirty-six dollars in her checking account.
No job.
No credit card her parents had not canceled.
No one answering the phone.
Connor pointed again.
“Faster.”
Twenty minutes later, Amber stood at the sink in a dark-green dress, hands covered in soap, tears falling silently.
Kitchen workers avoided her eyes.
Then the doors opened.
Every employee straightened.
Richard Cole entered in a black suit.
Connor immediately changed posture.
“Mr. Cole.”
Richard barely heard him.
He saw Amber.
Stopped.
Amber turned slowly, wet plate in her hands.
Richard’s face changed.
“Wait.”
He walked closer.
Amber stepped backward.
Richard stared at her as if a dead person had walked into the room.
Then his eyes dropped to her soap-covered hands.
A thin black ink line was still visible along one finger.
A habit.
She always sketched there when she ran out of paper.
Richard looked back at her face.
“You’re…”
Amber froze.
Connor looked between them.
Richard finished quietly:
“A.M. Vale.”
The plate slipped slightly in Amber’s hands.
No one in her family knew that name.
No one was supposed to.
Richard’s voice sharpened.
“You’re the artist.”
May you like
Amber’s heart stopped.
And for the first time that night, Connor looked afraid.
