Chapter 5: The Woman Who Thought She Owned the Restaurant
The bank manager's office smelled like burnt coffee and printer toner.
Reggie sat in a leather chair with his hands clasped together.
Amara sat beside him, holding a folder containing the restaurant's operating agreement, transaction records, and the bank's notification.
Across the desk, the business account manager, Mr. Collins, examined the documents.
"Mr. Johnson," he said, "before we discuss the pending request, I need to clarify something.""
Reggie leaned forward.
"Go ahead.""
"According to the original business documents, Ms. Amara Johnson holds a fifty-one percent ownership interest following the transfer triggered by her mother's passing.""
Reggie looked at Amara.
"I knew she inherited something. I didn't realize it was that much.""
Amara shook her head.
"Mom wanted the restaurant protected.""
Mr. Collins nodded.
"The transfer appears to have been properly documented. Any changes to ownership-related financial authority require the appropriate approval.""
Reggie rubbed his beard.
"What about Sabrina's request?""
"She requested that Ms. Johnson's access be removed and that she become the sole authorized administrator.""
"Can she do that?""
Mr. Collins checked the paperwork.
"Not under the current ownership structure without additional authorization.""
Reggie leaned back.
"Then cancel it.""
"We can place the request on hold immediately and begin the formal review.""
Amara slid another document across the desk.
"There are also payments to a company owned by Sabrina Mitchell. We need to know whether those transactions can be disputed or investigated.""
Mr. Collins examined the statements.
"These are recurring payments?""
"Yes," Amara answered.
"Every Friday.""
"Do you have supporting invoices?""
"No.""
"Contracts?""
"No.""
"Evidence of services provided?""
"Not yet.""
Mr. Collins made a note.
"I recommend preserving all records and speaking with a qualified business attorney before attempting to reverse anything.""
Reggie nodded slowly.
For the first time, he seemed to understand that this wasn't a disagreement between two women.
It was a serious financial matter.
When they returned to the restaurant, Sabrina was waiting in the dining room.
She had changed clothes.
Her cream blouse was gone, replaced by a fitted black dress.
A leather folder rested on the table in front of her.
"Finally," she said.
"I've been waiting.""
Reggie placed his keys on the counter.
"What are you doing here?""
"Preparing for our meeting.""
"What meeting?""
Sabrina tapped the folder.
"The meeting where we decide how this restaurant is going to be managed.""
Amara frowned.
"There's no meeting scheduled.""
"There is now.""
Reggie looked at the folder.
"What is that?""
"An updated management agreement.""
Sabrina opened it and pushed several pages toward him.
"I had an attorney prepare a proposal. It will make everything easier.""
Amara picked up the first page.
Her eyes moved across the document.
Then she stopped.
The agreement proposed appointing Sabrina as managing director with exclusive control over daily operations, payroll, banking, and vendor payments.
It also required Amara to surrender her administrative access.
In exchange, she would receive a monthly salary and no authority over financial decisions.
Amara slowly placed the document down.
"You're asking me to become an employee?""
Sabrina smiled.
"I'm offering you a position.""
"I already manage the restaurant.""
"That's not what this says.""
Reggie looked through the pages.
"Sabrina, when did you prepare this?""
"Last week.""
Amara looked up.
"Last week?""
Sabrina adjusted her bracelet.
"Yes.""
"Before you tried to remove my bank access?""
"I was planning ahead.""
Amara shook her head.
"You planned to remove me before you even discussed it with Dad.""
Sabrina's smile disappeared.
"Your father and I are married. We make decisions together.""
Reggie put down the document.
"Not decisions about her ownership.""
Sabrina turned toward him.
"Reggie, we discussed this.""
"We discussed you helping with management. We didn't discuss transferring control.""
"I thought we were on the same page.""
"Apparently not.""
Sabrina pushed her chair back.
"Do you know how humiliating this is?""
Reggie stared at her.
"What's humiliating is finding out that my restaurant has been paying your private company without proper records.""
Her eyes narrowed.
"You keep repeating that.""
"Because you haven't explained it.""
She leaned over the table.
"Fine. You want an explanation? I spent months helping you keep this place running while your daughter treated me like an outsider.""
Amara folded her arms.
"You were paid eleven thousand dollars.""
"Not enough.""
The words escaped before Sabrina could stop them.
Reggie froze.
"What did you say?""
Sabrina blinked.
"I said it wasn't enough for the amount of work I did.""
"Then why didn't you ask for more?""
"Because you never listen!""
Reggie shook his head.
"That's not how business works.""
Sabrina grabbed the folder.
"You know what? I'm done defending myself.""
She turned toward Amara.
"You've always wanted me gone.""
Amara stood.
"I wanted you to stop taking money from employees and pretending it was yours.""
Sabrina slapped her palm against the table.
"Those employees wouldn't even have jobs if your father hadn't married me!""
Reggie stood immediately.
"Don't you ever say that.""
Sabrina stared at him.
For a moment, the restaurant seemed to shrink around them.
Then the front door opened.
Jasmine, one of the servers, entered carrying her purse.
She stopped when she noticed the tension.
"Sorry. I came to pick up my bonus.""
Amara's expression softened.
"Of course. Give me one second.""
She walked to the register and unlocked the drawer.
Sabrina watched as Amara removed an envelope.
"Where did that money come from?"" Sabrina demanded.
Amara looked at her.
"The money I protected last night.""
Jasmine approached the counter.
"Is everything okay?""
Amara handed her the envelope.
"Everything's fine. You earned this.""
Jasmine opened it and smiled.
"Thank you. My daughter has been asking when I could take her shopping for school shoes.""
Amara smiled back.
"You deserve it.""
Jasmine looked toward Reggie.
"Mr. Johnson, I wanted to thank you too. We appreciate everything you do.""
Reggie looked at the envelope in Jasmine's hand.
Then at Sabrina.
Something about the moment seemed to settle heavily on him.
The employees weren't just numbers in a spreadsheet.
They were people.
People who trusted him.
People whose livelihoods depended on the decisions he made.
Jasmine left.
Sabrina picked up her handbag.
"Enjoy your little victory.""
She walked toward the exit.
But Reggie called after her.
"Sabrina.""
She stopped.
"Until we understand these transactions, you're not accessing the bank account or financial records.""
She turned slowly.
"You're suspending me?""
"I'm protecting the business.""
Her lips parted.
Then she laughed bitterly.
"You're making a huge mistake.""
She walked out.
Amara watched through the window as Sabrina climbed into her SUV.
Then she noticed something.
Sabrina wasn't driving away.
She was sitting in the parking lot, holding her phone against her ear.
A few seconds later, she started the engine.
Reggie came to stand beside Amara.
"Do you think she knew about the ownership agreement?""
Amara looked at him.
"She knew enough to try to remove me.""
He nodded.
Then his phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unfamiliar number.
It contained a photograph of a document.
Reggie opened it.
His expression changed immediately.
Amara leaned closer.
The photograph showed a bank authorization form.
It was dated three weeks earlier.
And beneath Reggie's signature was a handwritten instruction:
*Transfer all available restaurant reserves to SJM Hospitality Consulting upon approval of the new administrator.*
Reggie stared at the signature.
"I never signed this.""
Amara looked at him.
"Then who did?""
He enlarged the photograph.
The signature looked almost identical to his.
But in the corner of the document was a detail that made Amara's stomach drop.
The form had been submitted using the restaurant's digital authorization system.
And the approval had already been scheduled.
For Monday morning.
May you like
Today was Friday.
They had barely seventy-two hours.
