Roderick scratched behind my ear like I was an animal. “Maybe wish for a nice nursing home.”
I caught his wrist and placed his hand back on the table. “Enjoy the joke,” I said.
Then I pushed the bowl away and reached for my phone. He assumed I was calling the restaurant manager.
Instead, I opened the secure banking app and approved the instructions my attorney had prepared that morning.
Roderick’s platinum card: canceled. Paisley’s card: canceled. The business expense account he treated like a personal fountain: frozen pending audit.
The lease payments on both luxury vehicles: stopped. One by one, confirmation notices appeared.
Roderick’s grin survived until a waiter quietly told him the champagne charge had been declined.
He tried another card, then another. Paisley checked her phone and went pale.
“What did you do?” he demanded. “I stopped paying for people who despise me.”
His friends suddenly became fascinated with their napkins. Roderick leaned across the table, his face hard.
