Receipts of Ruin

"$10,864.40." The server turned the POS machine toward me. The white numbers glowed against the black screen. I recited a string of digits for my VIP account. The cashier looked up. "Is Ms. Ellis present?" The entire table turned to look at me. Paige waved me over to enter my PIN. "Just validating the membership for the twenty-percent discount," she said. I entered it wrong. Three times. The account locked instantly. The bill hung on the screen. Ten thousand, eight hundred and sixty-four dollars and forty cents. Behind us, the aerator in the lobster tank let out a low, bubbling hum. Nobody said a word. 1 Friday. 4:20 PM. The fluorescent light tube near the north-facing windows was dying. A sharp flicker, followed by three seconds of dead air. Paige Miller walked in, heels clicking against the carpet, holding her phone up like a trophy. "Nobody make plans for tonight," she announced, slapping her phone down on Nate Foster’s desk. "My birthday. The Breakwater. The whole team." Nate looked up from behind his monitors. "Which Breakwater?" "The seafood club down by the marina." Tessa was gnawing on her iced coffee straw. She’d already flattened the plastic. "Paige, you can't get out of there for less than four figures a head." "Drinks and dinner are on me." Paige tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Everyone gets a gift bag, too. Evelyn is coming." "Evelyn is going?" Nate repeated. "I invited our fearless director myself." "You’re dropping some serious cash, Paige," Tessa said. "You only turn twenty-six once." "Is the kids' lounge on the second floor open?" Dan asked from the back row. "I have to bring Toby." "Bring him," Paige said. "Put whatever you want on the tab. It’s all going on my card tonight." "Where’s the address?" Nate asked. "She dropped a pin in the Slack channel," Tessa answered. "Dress code?" "Just bring yourselves." Paige turned back around. There were eight people in our group. Nobody got any real work done the rest of the afternoon. Tessa was scrolling through Yelp, shoving a photo of an Alaskan King Crab into the face of whoever was closest. She pointed at the market price. Dan peered over his reading glasses. "That crab alone has to be pushing five hundred bucks." "Try eight hundred," Tessa corrected. "Our corporate holiday party didn't even have this kind of budget." "Well, birthdays trump holidays," Nate muttered. "I heard the VP of Marketing hosted a dinner there last quarter and it ran him ten grand." "He had a corporate expense account." "And us?" "We get dinner and a show," Nate said. My Slack pinged. A private message from Nate: ??? I typed back: Take it easy on the drinks tonight. He replied: Wasn't she literally crying at her desk last month over her Amex bill? I stared at the message and didn't reply. Right before five, Paige drifted over to my cubicle, leaning her forearms on my partition, a half-empty latte in hand. "Audrey, still doing your expense reports?" "Yeah." "Give that stack to me. I'm heading to Finance anyway, I'll drop them off for you." Before I could answer, she reached over and scooped up the pile of receipts on my left. At the very bottom of the stack was a signed Business Meal Expense Pre-Approval Form. I had signed the bottom, but the total amount field was still blank. I opened my mouth, but she was already turning away, heading back to her desk. Nate leaned his head over the divider. "You let her handle your expense reports again?" "I already signed it. I just hadn't filled in the final amount yet." "Audrey." He shook his head. "She's been kissing up to Evelyn hard lately. Watch your back." "Performance reviews for the promotion are next Wednesday. The work speaks for itself." "The work?" Nate lowered his voice. "Her work gets done over cocktails and dinners." The door to Evelyn’s corner office clicked open. Nobody stepped out, and a second later, it clicked shut. Tessa trotted over, clutching her laptop. "Paige is bleeding cash for this dinner. Do you think she’s gunning for the Senior Manager spot?" "Gunning for what?" Nate played dumb. "The promotion. It’s either her or Audrey. They're the only two with enough tenure." "Just eat your free crab, Tessa." Tessa rolled her eyes and walked back. 5:30 PM. Paige did another lap around the floor and stopped at my desk. "Audrey, don't you have a corporate VIP House Account at The Breakwater?" The stapler in my hand jammed. No staple came out. "Why do you ask?" "Members get a complimentary birthday dessert, right? I want to take advantage of the perks." She smiled, perfectly sweet. "I saw you make that massive deposit there three months ago. Put in ten grand, get an eighteen-hundred dollar dining credit. I was right there." Three months ago, Richard Weston from Lumina Group signed his annual retainer with us at The Breakwater. I had gone to the front desk to arrange the corporate deposit. Paige had shown up to deliver a flash drive and stood right next to me the entire time. "How much is left on it?" she asked. "Not much." "Still in the five figures?" Nate chimed in from over the partition. "What is this, an IRS audit?" "I kind of want to open one myself. What’s the minimum buy-in?" Paige didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on me. "Ten thousand minimum." "It’s a smart way to pay. Basically means the restaurant owes you money." "You know a lot about it," Nate noted. She stuck her tongue out playfully. "Bring your card tonight, Audrey." "We'll see." After she walked away, Nate swiveled his chair around. "Why go tonight if you aren't bringing the card?" "To eat." "She can't force you to foot the bill, but she’ll definitely try to corner you into paying." Once she was out of sight, I opened The Breakwater’s mobile app. House Account Balance: $16,240.00. I tapped into the Security Center. My old PIN was the last four digits of my employee ID plus my birth month and day. I’d used it for six years. I had changed it once last month, but suddenly feeling uneasy, I decided to change it again. Six digits. Typed it twice. System Prompt: PIN successfully updated. I opened the live chat with customer support and asked if a charge could be processed if someone else provided my account number. The rep replied: House Accounts can be charged using the member ID and the secure PIN. We do not require photo ID for PIN-verified transactions. Please keep your PIN secure. I took a screenshot. A text from Nate popped up on my screen. Taking Evelyn out a week before the performance reviews. She's buying votes. Are you seriously not bringing the card? No. What if she puts you on the spot in front of everyone? Makes you say you're okay with her getting the promotion? She won't get it. How do you know? Because I'm the one holding the Lumina Group contract. A notification popped up in the main group chat. Paige had dropped the location: The Breakwater, The Commodore Room. 7:30 PM. Followed by a cascade of Thanks Paige! emojis. Who RSVP'd? Nate texted. Everyone. Dan sent two thumbs-up emojis. He's eager. Right on cue, a private message from Paige came through. Hey Audrey, is your VIP account linked to your cell number? I want to make sure the kitchen prepares that birthday dessert. I stared at the text. I typed: No, it's not. What number is it under then? I didn't reply. 6:00 PM. I locked my computer screen and placed my phone face down on the desk. The stapler jammed again. I gave it a hard smack. Click. This time, the metal bit perfectly into the paper. 2 6:40 PM. The heavy doors at The Breakwater were solid brass. Six hostesses in sleek black dresses stood at the entrance. Paige was already inside, wearing a new slip dress, chatting intimately with a woman in a tailored black suit. The woman’s gold nametag read: Guest Relations Manager – Monica Rossi. "Audrey, you made it." Paige hooked her arm through mine. "This is my girl Monica. They treat their VIPs right here." Monica Rossi glanced at me, her eyes pausing on my handbag for two seconds too long. "I don't believe we've met, Ms. Ellis." "It's my first time here," I lied smoothly. Nate, half a step behind me, muttered under his breath. "They were cheek-to-cheek at the door like they’ve known each other for ten years." "They just provide good service," I replied quietly. "Good enough service to know your last name without asking?" I didn't answer. Paige must have given her my name when she walked in. The Commodore Room was on the second floor. Stacked on the credenza by the door were eight sleek, matte-black gift bags embossed in gold foil. They were heavy. Tessa nudged one with the toe of her shoe. "Artisan Imperial Caviar gift sets. At least two hundred and fifty a pop." She kept her voice low. "You can get this brand online for a hundred and twenty." Paige was pouring water, her hands moving briskly. "Different distributors. You really trust the stuff you buy online?" "Paige, one of these boxes is like a quarter of my rent." "Just take it, Tessa. Don't price-check." She shot me a look. "Price-checking ruins the mood." I unfolded my linen napkin and laid it on my lap. I didn't say anything. Dan's little boy, Toby, was crawling under the large circular table, and bumped his head hard against a chair leg. "Toby, settle down," Dan scolded. "Let him play." Paige tossed the boy an orange. "There's a family lounge down the hall. You can take him there after he eats." The server stood by with a tablet. Paige didn't even look at the leather-bound menu. "How big are the King Crabs?" "Just under four pounds, miss. Flown in this morning." "We'll take one. And the Maine lobsters?" "Eighty dollars a pound, two-lobster minimum for the tableside prep." "Are your scales accurate?" Nate asked, leaning back. "We have a certified scale in the kitchen. You're welcome to verify the weight after." "Stop being difficult, Nate. I'm treating," Paige snapped. "I'm just looking out for your wallet, Paige." "If you're so worried, eat more." Before Nate could fire back, Dan interrupted. "Can we do the lobster three ways? Maybe a bisque for the kid?" "Sure, three ways." Paige nodded to the server. "And the wine?" She didn't open the wine list either. "We have the 2015 Opus One. Eight hundred a bottle." "Bring us two to start." "Do you charge a corkage fee?" Nate asked. "Not if you buy from our cellar, sir." "What if we brought our own?" "Fifty dollars a bottle." "Alright, well, we didn't." I set my water glass down. "Two bottles of heavy reds for eight people?" "It's a celebration, Audrey." She slid a hot towel toward me. "Besides, you're not paying for it." Almost 7:00 PM. Evelyn arrived at five to seven. Paige actually went down to the lobby to escort her up. The moment she walked in, the entire table stood. "Sit, sit." Evelyn shrugged off her trench coat, which Paige immediately took and hung up for her. "Who ordered this wine?" Evelyn asked, looking at the bottles. "I did," Paige said. "You're spending too much, Paige." "You don't get to drink on my dime very often, Evelyn." Evelyn flipped through the menu, found the page with the market prices, and softly closed it. "Will your quarterly bonus even cover this?" "It will. I've been saving up." "You younger staff shouldn't be so extravagant." "Don't worry, Evelyn. I know exactly what I'm doing." Nate leaned in, his lips barely moving near my ear. "That 'exactly what I'm doing' is about to cost her ten grand." I kicked him under the tablecloth. Evelyn turned her attention to me. "Audrey, that Lumina Group contract... are we reviewing it during your presentation next Wednesday?" "The materials are ready to go." Paige poured the wine, the neck of the bottle clinking hard against Evelyn's glass, spilling a single drop onto the white linen. 7:30 PM. The chilled appetizers arrived. Eight plates. The server presented the wine to Paige. "Is this the 2015?" "Yes, miss. I assure you." "Open it." Nate leaned across the table. "Mind if I scan the barcode on my app? Just curious." "Go ahead." He scanned it. The retail price popped up on his screen. He shoved it in my face—it was hundreds less than the restaurant price. "Restaurants have overhead," I whispered. "They're making a killing." Nate tapped his chopsticks against his plate. "This dinner is easily hitting five grand." "Five grand won't cut it," Tessa said quietly. "The wine alone is sixteen hundred." "How is she affording this?" Tessa cut her eyes toward the head of the table, then looked down and started peeling a shrimp. The shell pricked her finger, and she stuck it in her mouth. Halfway through the meal, Monica Rossi pushed open the heavy door. She held a sleek gold envelope. She leaned down and whispered directly into Paige’s ear. Paige smiled, nodded, and slipped the envelope into her designer bag. The two exchanged a highly deliberate look. Nate elbowed my ribs. "Did you see that?" "Yeah." "What were they whispering about?" "Couldn't hear." "It's weird," Nate muttered. "It's like they're passing state secrets instead of ordering dessert." As Monica left the room, she stopped a busboy in the hallway. Her voice was hushed, but I caught the tail end of her sentence. "...bring the POS machine to the service station early. But don't turn it on yet." The busboy nodded, holding his tray tight against his chest. I reached for a piece of King Crab leg. The shell was spiked. My chopsticks slipped, and the crab leg skittered across the rotating glass tray. Nate grabbed it for me with his tongs. "You're awfully quiet tonight." "Just eating." 8:00 PM. Paige stood up, raising her glass. "First, a toast to Evelyn. And then, to all of you." She held the glass high. "Nobody is allowed to fight me for the check tonight." Glasses clinked together. Her bag was hanging off the back of her chair. The gold envelope wasn't pushed all the way down, and the edge of a printed receipt poked out. I could clearly read the words printed at the top. Pre-Authorization. 3 Past 8:00 PM. Two rounds of wine down. Paige’s face was flushed; she was talking fast. Evelyn raised her glass. "The targets for this year are aggressive. You've all seen the numbers." "We've seen them," Dan agreed. "Next Wednesday are the performance reviews. I will be sitting in personally. Those who are ready will step up. Those who aren't will need more time to develop." Paige raised her glass again, her arm jerking so quickly that a few drops of red wine sloshed over the rim. "I'll say it right now. I follow your lead, Evelyn. Point the way, and I'll deliver." "Sweet talker." Evelyn smiled. When she said it, Evelyn was looking right at Paige. Nate texted me under the table: Did you see that? The promotion is basically hers. I replied: Just eat. Paige walked around the table, her arm draped casually around Evelyn’s shoulders, toasting everyone. When she got to my side, her words slurred slightly as she addressed the whole room. "Did you guys know... Audrey was actually supposed to pay for tonight?" The table went dead silent. "She’s got that corporate VIP account. All the big clients sign here. But I told her, absolutely not. It's my birthday. I’m not letting my senior colleague foot the bill." Everyone was looking at me. I neatly folded my napkin and placed it beside my plate. "It's your birthday. You should treat." "Exactly!" She laughed, clapping a hand on my shoulder. Hard. "I told them you were generous." Nate kicked me under the table again. I didn't move. 9:10 PM. Paige wanted a group photo. She asked the server to take it with her phone. Two shots in, she complained they were blurry. "Audrey, let me borrow your phone. Your camera is better." "My lens is cracked." "Then let me just scan the QR code to order something else. Toby wants a mango smoothie." Her hand was already extended toward me. "There's a fruit platter right here," Nate interjected. "The kid wants a smoothie." Nate slapped his own phone into her palm. "Use mine. It's the new Pro." "What's your passcode?" "I'm not telling you." Nate pulled the phone back an inch. "Tell me what you want to order, I'll do it." The smile on Paige’s face froze for half a second. She turned away and flagged down a server to place the order manually. I stood up. I didn't go to the restroom; I walked straight down the hallway to the front desk in the main lobby. The receptionist on duty had a round face and a nametag that read Haley. "Could you pull up my VIP account and check if there has been any unusual activity tonight?" I gave her my phone number. She typed quickly on her keyboard. "At 7:40 PM, someone gave us your account number and asked for the balance. The front desk declined to provide it." "What did the person look like?" "Female, long hair, black dress. She said she was your friend." "Anything else?" "Twenty minutes ago, your account profile was accessed from the service station." She looked up. "It was opened using manager credentials. The note says Reservation Verification." "Who booked the private room tonight?" "Manager Rossi placed the order. It's listed under Ms. Miller's standard profile, with a two-thousand dollar deposit. Not your account." "Did she ask anything else?" "She asked if you were physically present in the restaurant tonight," Haley said. "Manager Rossi asked, not the front desk." "What did you tell her?" "I've only been working here for two months. I told her I wasn't sure." She lowered her head, staring at her keyboard, avoiding my eyes. I looked at the two lines of activity logged on the screen. "Can you print that out for me?" "I'd need the shift manager's approval." She looked left and right, then lowered her personal cell phone beneath the counter. "I'll take a picture of the screen and send it to you. Just don't say it came from me." The photo pinged into my inbox. I walked back. The hallway runner was thick, muffling my footsteps completely. When I sat back down, Nate leaned over. "Where did you go?" "Restroom." "You were gone for five minutes and haven't touched your food." "There was a line." I opened the restaurant's app and disabled the Quick Pay function. The pre-authorized limit had been set to $5,000. I toggled it to zero. Time for cake. Two tiers. The chocolate plaque read: Happy Birthday Paige. Eight candles were lit. Toby clapped and sang the birthday song, horribly off-key, while Dan hummed along. The kid tried to blow out the candles, but Dan held him back. Paige closed her eyes, whispered something to herself, and blew them out. The applause was polite, thin. "What did you wish for?" Tessa asked. "If I say it out loud, it won't come true." Paige looked directly at me. "Dad, can I have another slice?" Toby held up his fork. "Ask your dad." "One last piece," Dan relented. Paige cut the first slice and carried it with both hands to Evelyn. "Evelyn. First piece goes to you." "Oh, you shouldn't have." Evelyn took it. The second piece was handed to me. A single long strand of hair was stuck to the frosting. I set the plate on the edge of the glass turntable and didn't touch it. 9:40 PM. She put a paper crown on my head, put one on herself, and hooked her arm through mine, demanding Nate take a picture. "Hold on." Paige pulled out a compact mirror. "My bangs are messy." "Ready yet?" Nate held up his phone. "Go ahead." "Lean in closer, Audrey." Paige's phone was resting on the table right in front of us. The screen wasn't locked. It was open to her Notes app. The first line was a string of digits. I counted them. Nineteen numbers. It was my VIP account number. When I had opened the account, the front desk had printed a deposit receipt. That nineteen-digit number was right in the top right corner. She pressed the lock button, flashing a peace sign for the camera. Nate snapped three photos in rapid succession. "Done, done." She leaned in, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Audrey, make sure you sit closer to the front desk later." She picked up a forkful of cake and shoved it toward my mouth. I couldn't dodge it in time. I took the bite. It was mango. I am severely allergic to mango. I ended up in the ER during last year’s company retreat because of it. The entire team knew this. I spit it into my napkin. The bright yellow puree soaked right through the thin paper. Nate leaned in. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." "You went completely pale." "It's just the lighting." Her phone lit up with a push notification. The Notes app reappeared on the lock screen. I saw the second line of text she hadn't managed to hide. Six digits. The last four of my employee ID, plus 0714. My old PIN code. The one I had just changed last month. 4 10:00 PM. The dinner wrapped up. Everyone grabbed their gift bags. When Paige got to me, she shoved an extra one into my hands. "Double portion for you, Audrey." "I don't need it." "Just take it." The group moved toward the lobby, their voices echoing loudly in the stairwell, singing her praises. Tessa said Paige was the best coworker anyone could ask for. Dan took a call from his wife by the elevators. "Yeah, yeah, a coworker treated us. A ten-grand dinner," he bragged into the phone, laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. Paige didn't follow us out immediately. She stopped at the edge of the hallway. "You guys wait up for a second. Let me go settle the tab." Evelyn smiled. "We'll wait for you downstairs." Eight luxury gift bags were piled on the leather couches in the lobby. No one sat down. I stood by the illuminated lobster tank. The cashier on duty was a young man. Monica Rossi was nowhere to be seen. Paige recited a string of numbers. The lobby was quiet. I could hear her perfectly. Nineteen digits. Every single one was correct. The cashier typed them into his terminal, verified the screen, and looked up. "Account holder Audrey Ellis. VIP House Account. The total comes to ten thousand, eight hundred and sixty-four dollars and forty cents." His voice was flat and professional. "To confirm payment, please enter your PIN." Paige turned around and waved at me. "Audrey, come here! I got the numbers mixed up." Evelyn was standing by the couches. "Audrey, she's calling you." "Just validating the membership so we get the discount," Paige smiled easily. "I'll Venmo you the difference when we get home." The entire team was watching me. I walked over. The POS screen was angled toward me. Amount due: $10,864.40. Payment Method: VIP House Account Deduction. "Do you need a PIN just to validate a membership discount?" I asked the cashier. "No," he replied bluntly. "This is a payment authorization." Paige’s hand, resting on the marble counter, twitched. "Just type it in, Audrey. I told you I'll wire you the money tonight." I reached out and typed six numbers. Incorrect PIN. Behind me, Nate let out a surprised, "Huh?" I typed six numbers again. Incorrect PIN. One attempt remaining. Paige’s voice grew tight. "Audrey, type it carefully." I looked right at her and typed it a third time. The screen flashed red. "Three consecutive failed attempts. The account has been locked for twenty-four hours," the cashier read off the monitor. "To unlock it, the account holder must present a valid government ID in person during business hours." The lobby plunged into absolute silence.