Chapter 72: The Dinner Date
Early the next morning, Marcus sent a PDF copy of his contract directly to Steven’s DM.
Steven was already awake. He forwarded it to Hargreaves immediately, when he saw it, and a reply came back within minutes confirming that the legal team would begin reviewing it and would contact Marcus directly before the end of the day.
Steven relayed this to Marcus, who responded quickly.
Genuinely grateful man. I’ll owe you a big one if this works out.
Focus on the case first, Steven typed back. We’ll sort everything else after.
Will do. Just waiting now.
What are you doing in the meantime?
I honestly have no idea right now, but I’m sure that I’ll figure something out.
If you need anything, call me.
You’ve already done more than enough. I don’t want to be a burden.
I’m the one offering
, Steven typed. Stop worrying about that. I really appreciate it. I’ll keep you updated on everything.
Just take care of yourself, Steven replied.
I will, Marcus said.
Steven set the phone down and looked out at the city in the early morning light. He hoped the contract gave the lawyers what they needed.
While handing Marcus the money to clear the debt outright would have been simple, it wasn’t the right move. It would have settled the number without addressing anything beneath it.
The company had terminated him under a gross negligence clause that may not have applied, issued a liability notice within twenty minutes of a road accident caused by another driver, and done both without giving Marcus any opportunity to respond.
Paying that invoice without challenge meant accepting the framing. It meant letting them walk away from a decision that deserved to be examined.
The legal route was slower and less certain, but it was the right one. If it held, Marcus would come out of it with his name clear and the company’s conduct on record. That was worth more than a cleared balance.
Steven set the phone down and got up from the bed.
He had already sorted the restaurant for his date with Lena tonight. He had done it the previous evening, found somewhere worth the occasion, and sent Lena the name, address, and time before he went to sleep. Her reply had been a single word. Perfect. Which had told him everything he needed to know about the choice.
He stood in the bedroom for a moment, thinking through the day ahead. Nothing pressing appeared. The settlement hadn’t happened yet and was expected sometime tonight or early tomorrow morning, and the anticipation of it had been sitting at the back of his mind since he woke.
He allowed himself to imagine it briefly,the scene of him waking up tomorrow and finding the system notification waiting for him, the rebate from more than three million dollars of accumulated Reserve Card spending landing in a single figure. Whatever the multiplier turned out to be, the number was going to be significant.
He grinned at the ceiling, then walked to the bathroom.
He showered, dressed in something light, and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.
The morning passed without urgency. He ate, cleared up, and moved to the sofa. The game was where he spent most of it, with the group chat running in the background and a film in the afternoon when his fingers needed a rest from the controller.
Lena texted once mid-morning, something brief and warm, and he replied in kind. The conversation didn’t extend beyond a few exchanges. There was nothing that needed saying before tonight that couldn’t wait until they were sitting across from each other.
The update from Marcus came early afternoon.
Lawyers called. They said the case is looking good.
Steven read the message and he felt satisfied at how things were looking. If the legal assessment was holding, it meant the gross negligence framing was as weak as Hargreaves had suggested.
It also meant the camera footage on Westheimer might matter and that Marcus had a real position to argue from rather than a debt to absorb.
He typed back. Good. Let them lead. Just keep me updated.
The group chat were keeping up with the case’s progress and Marcus had told them that the lawyers had indeed called as Steven had said.
The questions that followed were directed almost entirely at Steven, everyone wanting to know how JP Morgan’s legal team had ended up involved in a Saturday evening delivery accident in Westchester. And how Steven had the contact of someone there.
Steven said nothing useful. He read the messages, contributed to other threads, and left the JP Morgan question unanswered without making a point of it.
His friends understood that something had changed in Steven’s life in ways they hadn’t been given the full picture of yet, and most of them were sensible enough to read the silence as deliberate rather than evasive. The questions stopped without requiring him to address them directly.
James sent a separate message outside the group.
You don’t have to explain. Just know that whatever it is, we’re not going anywhere.
Steven read it and sat with it for a moment before typing back.
I know. I’ll explain properly when there’s more to explain.
Take your time, James replied.
The afternoon continued in the same easy rhythm. Nothing demanded his attention and he gave it to nothing in particular, moving between the game and the chat and a second film that he enjoyed more than he had expected to.
The sun had climbed and now was beginning its descent over the city, the light through the floor-to-ceiling windows shifting from the flat brightness of midday to something warmer and more amber.
Steven checked the time.
It was approaching eight. The restaurant was less than ten minutes from his place, which meant he had enough time to move without rushing. He set the controller down on the coffee table, stood up from the sofa, and stretched his neck slowly to one side then the other.
He walked to the bedroom and opened the wardrobe.
He considered the options without deliberating too long and stood in front of the wardrobe mirror for a moment.
"Looking good," he muttered in satisfaction.
He turned away from the mirror, collected his phone, car key fob, and key card from the side table, and walked to the front door.
He walked down the hallway to the elevator, which came immediately and he rode it down to the garage. The doors opening onto the cool underground air, and walked to the Aston Martin.
He got in, started the engine, pulled out of the space and drove up the ramp into the evening city.
He drove without pushing and the skyline moving past the windows in the amber light.
He was three minutes out when he saw a dark grey Mercedes, moving through traffic two cars ahead of him, the same model and colour he had followed through downtown on Thursday evening.
He recognised it immediately to be Lena’s car and he smiled. He kept his distance, following the same route.
Lena turned into the restaurant’s parking area ahead of him and he pulled in thirty seconds behind her, taking a space two rows back. He turned off the car and sat for a moment, watching through the windscreen as her door opened.
Lena stepped out, smoothing her jacket as she stood. She was wearing something dark and her hair down.
She hadn’t seen him yet. She was reaching back into the car for something.
Steven got out of the Aston Martin and called her name across the parking lot.
She straightened and turned, scanning briefly for the voice, and then she found him.
Immediately, a bright smile bloomed on her face.
She raised a hand in a small wave as he walked toward her.
"You followed me here," she said, when he was close enough.
"You were going the same direction," Steven said.
She laughed at his response.
"You look good," she said.
"And you look stunning. The dress fits you perfectly," Steven said.
She glanced at the restaurant entrance, then back at him. "Shall we?"
"Let’s go," Steven said.
They walked to the entrance together.