Chapter 4: The Woman Who Wouldn't Let Go
Jason's expression didn't change, but his eyes did.
"Show me," he said.
Ava turned the phone toward him.
He read the message once, then stepped back and pulled out his own phone.
He typed something quickly, waited, typed again.
"It's her number," he said.
"She must have gotten yours from somewhere."
"How?"
"The reservation.
The host would have taken a contact number when I booked." He looked up.
"I'm sorry.
She shouldn't have your number."
"How does she even know who I am?"
"She doesn't.
Not really." He put his phone away.
"That's the point.
She doesn't need to know who you are.
She just needs to know you exist."
They stood on the pavement outside the coffee shop.
Through the window, a man was reading a newspaper.
A woman was laughing at something on her phone.
The ordinary world, proceeding without them.
"What did she mean?" Ava asked.
"About why you ended things."
Jason was quiet for a moment.
"Come inside.
I'll tell you."
They took a corner table.
The coffee shop was warm and unhurried, the kind of place that didn't notice you.
A young woman brought their order without making conversation.
Jason wrapped both hands around his mug.
"Diane and I were together for two years," he said.
"She knew about the restaurant from the beginning.
What she didn't know — what I didn't tell her until about six months before the end — was the full picture.
How much it was worth.
What I'd built around it."
"Why didn't you tell her earlier?"
"Same reason I didn't tell you tonight.
I wanted to know who I was dealing with first."
Ava nodded slowly.
"When she found out," he continued, "everything changed.
The way she talked about the future.
The way she talked about the restaurant — as if it were already half hers.
She started referring to it as *our* place to people we hadn't even met yet." He paused.
"I ended it three weeks after that conversation."
"And she didn't accept it."
"She accepted the words.
She didn't accept the reality." He looked down at his mug.
"She's been telling people we're still together.
Or that we're reconciling.
Or that I'm confused.
The story changes depending on who she's talking to."
Ava's phone buzzed again on the table between them.
Another message from the same number.
*Ask him about the contract with Harlow Group.
Ask him what Diane's brother does for a living.*
They both looked at it.
"Her brother," Ava said.
Jason's jaw tightened.
"Marcus."
"Who is he?"
Jason picked up his mug, set it down again without drinking.
"He's a developer.
Mid-size firm.
I've been in negotiations with his company for eight months — a second location, a building they own on the east side." He stopped.
"I didn't know he was her brother when we started talking."
"When did you find out?"
"Four months ago.
Right around the time I ended things with Diane."
The coffee shop felt quieter suddenly, even though nothing had changed.
"So she's not just angry," Ava said.
"She has leverage."
"She thinks she does."
"Does she?"
Jason looked at her directly.
"That's what my lawyer and I have been working out."
Ava sat back.
The text was still glowing on her screen.
Diane had sent it to rattle her, she understood that.
But the information itself — whether Diane intended it as a warning or a weapon — had landed somewhere useful.
"Why are you telling me all of this?" Ava asked.
"We've known each other one evening."
"Because you asked," he said simply.
"And because you're still here."
Her phone buzzed a third time.
This time it wasn't a text.
It was a call.
The same number.
Jason watched her face.
"You don't have to answer."
May you like
Ava looked at the screen.
Then she picked up the phone and accepted the call.
