After the Four-Hundred-Dollar Dinner, the Manager Charged Me the Bill, but an Object Found in the Morning Changed His Face

That night, when the four-hundred-dollar bill exceeded my salary, Manager Jet looked me in the eyes and told me that I would pay for everything.

The Marani restaurant stood on the most expensive street in the city. It was ten o’clock in the evening, raindrops were running down the windows, and the strong smell of roasted meat and rosemary came from the kitchen. That day I had been at the university since morning, then brought my mother her medicines at home and ran straight to my shift.

My younger brother Luka was waiting for me at home. His inhaler was almost empty.

Therefore, four hundred dollars was not simply a bill for me. It was one month’s food, part of the rent, and Luka’s medicines.

The couple came in at nine in the evening. The woman was dressed in a black silk dress, and the man wore a golden watch that reflected the chandelier’s light with every movement. They did not even open the menu.

“Bring us the most expensive wine,” the man told me. “You choose the rest yourselves.”

“Do you have any allergies?” I asked.

The woman chuckled.

“We are not allergic to expensive food.”

My small copper brooch fell beneath their table. It was shaped like a rabbit; Luka had made it for me at school and told me to carry it at work so that I would always remember returning home. While I was wiping the floor with a napkin, I put the brooch into my apron pocket.

They ordered oysters, two steaks, three side dishes, four cocktails, and a wine whose bottle cost almost my entire week’s salary.

“The bill, please,” the man said at half past ten.

I put the receipt on the table and went to help another guest. Five minutes later I returned.

The table was empty.

The receipt tray was empty too.

At first I thought they were in the restroom. Then I ran to the exit. The door was swaying in the wind, and the street was already empty.

I went to Jet by the kitchen. He was holding a cup of coffee and looked at me as if I had broken something.

“They left,” I told him. “They did not pay.”

“Was it your table?”

“Yes, but we have cameras. The number, the face, the car—”

“Was it your table?” he repeated.

“Jet, it is four hundred dollars.”

“Then you will pay four hundred dollars.”

Cold froze in my throat.

“What are you saying?”

“Whoever serves the table is responsible for it too.”

“How am I supposed to pay? I am a student. I support my family.”

Jet shrugged.

“That is not my problem.”

That night I could not even take off my shoes at home. My mother immediately noticed my face.

“What happened?”

I told her everything. Luka came out of the room and quietly handed me the rabbit brooch he had made, which had fallen out of my pocket.

“Do not sell it,” he told me. “I made it for you.”

I nodded, but I knew I would have to borrow money the next day.

In the morning Jet called me.

“Come before your shift.”

There was no indifference in his voice from the previous night anymore. He spoke quietly, as if someone were listening in the room.

When I entered the restaurant, the cleaning woman was standing by the corner booth. Jet looked toward me and quickly came over.

“They found something in the back,” he told me.

“What?”

He held a small, wooden-colored box in his hand. The box smelled of rain dampness and old paper.

“It was stuck behind that table.”

“And why did you call me?”

Jet did not answer. His fingers were trembling so much that the lid of the box opened slightly.

“Nino,” he said in a hoarse voice, “I think you should see this.”

I reached out my hand. Under the lid I could see a small device, and the same rabbit sign as on Luka’s brooch was engraved on it.

Before I touched the box, the restaurant’s entrance door opened heavily and someone locked it from inside…

The man who had not paid the bill the previous night stood in the doorway. He was no longer wearing the expensive jacket. His wet hair clung to his forehead, and he held a black umbrella.

“Give me the box,” he said.

Jet took a step back.

“How did you get in here?”

“You left the back door open.”

The woman appeared behind him. Her face was pale.

“Nino, I am Mariam,” she told me. “Yesterday we did not want to harm you.”

“They charged me four hundred dollars.”

“We know.”

“Then why did you do this?”

Mariam looked at Jet.

“Because he had to believe that he still had everything under control.”

Jet reached his hand toward the box.

“Leave it here and go.”

The man smiled bitterly.

“It is already too late, Jet.”

Mariam took the box from me and opened the lid completely. Inside lay a small voice recorder, a memory card, and a folded paper. Several employees’ names were written on the paper. Four hundred dollars was written next to my name.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Evidence,” Mariam said. “But do not listen to it here yet.”

At that moment Jet looked at the telephone hanging on the wall. His face suddenly tensed.

“If you call the police, your family will have problems,” he told me.

I hugged the box to my chest.

“My family already has problems. Because of you.”

Mariam took hold of my arm.

“Nino, if you want to know why they chose you, come to the clinic this evening. There you will find out whose recording this is…”

Jet picked up the telephone and dialed a number…

Jet dialed the number, but Mariam snatched the telephone from his hand and dropped it on the floor. The plastic broke with a loud noise. Only the refrigerator’s low hum could be heard in the restaurant.

“Now she has to hear everything,” said the man accompanying her. “Nino, I am Giorgi. We are financial investigators.”

“Investigators? You acted like clients.”

“Because there was no other way for us to enter this scheme.”

That same evening, at six o’clock, we were sitting in a small empty consultation room in the clinic. Rain struck the window. Mariam’s white gloves lay on the table, and beside them was the wooden box.

Giorgi turned on the recorder.

First I heard my own voice.

“I put the bill on the table. I went out for a few minutes.”

Then Jet’s voice was heard.

“Do not worry, Nino will pay. I make every waiter do this. No one checks the cameras either.”

My body froze.

“There is more,” Mariam said.

The man was speaking in the recording.

“How many employees have you left in debt this way?”

“Eleven. I blackmail some, and promise others that I will deduct it from their salary little by little. Whoever resists, I tell them I will accuse them of theft.”

Jet grabbed the chair standing in the corner of the clinic.

“This recording is illegal.”

“No,” Giorgi replied. “You continued the conversation yourself after you learned that the device was lying by the table.”

I picked up the paper. It did not contain only the employees’ names. Next to each one were an amount, a date, and Jet’s signature. Next to my name it said: “Nino — four hundred dollars. Vulnerable family situation. Easily submissive.”

My fingers began to tremble.

“Why me?” I asked.

Mariam lowered her eyes.

“Because Jet knew your family depended on this money. He wanted you to leave the job so that his relative could take your place.”

“You knew all of this in advance?”

“We knew about the scheme. But we did not know that you would be the one they attacked.”

Jet stepped toward me.

“Nino, it was only a mistake. I will return the money to you.”

“When I asked you yesterday to check the cameras, why was it not a mistake then?”

He could not find an answer.

Giorgi stopped the recording and put a second document on the table.

“These are transfers taken from the restaurant owner’s accounts. Jet was not acting alone.”

The owner’s name was written at the top of the document.

At that moment my telephone rang. My mother’s number appeared on the screen.

“Nino,” she said as soon as I answered, “two men came to the house. They entered Luka’s room and are looking for something.”

My chair fell backward.

Jet smiled for the first time.

“Now do you understand?” he said quietly. “These papers are not worth more than you.”

But Giorgi took the phone from me and looked at the screen.

“Nino, do not open the door,” he told my mother. “Help is already on the way.”

Then he looked at Mariam, and his face changed.

“They are not merely carrying out a threat. They know where the main evidence is.”

At that moment a new message arrived on Giorgi’s phone. He read it and lost color.

“What happened?” I asked.

He turned the screen toward me.

The message said: “If the recording reaches the police, Nino’s brother will pay the price first. But they do not yet know that we are already on our way to the clinic…”