Chapter 2 - THE WATCH HE REMEMBERED
~1,100 words
Ten minutes later, the man half of Boston was afraid to look in the eye was standing over a restaurant stove making scrambled eggs for my six-year-old daughter.
I still couldn’t believe it.
James Moretti had found bacon in the walk-in, potatoes in a storage bin, and a loaf of sourdough the morning crew had left behind.
He moved around the kitchen like he’d done it before.
One of the men in suits caught me staring.
“That surprise you?”
“Everything tonight surprises me.”
His mouth almost became a smile.
“I’m Leo.”
“Grace.”
“I know.”
That made my stomach tighten again.
Leo noticed.
“Relax. Mr. Moretti asked your name from the manager’s schedule. That’s all.”
The kitchen door opened.
James came out carrying two plates.
“Table.”
Leo immediately moved.
James gave him a look.
“Not you.”
For the first time, I saw one of James Moretti’s men look genuinely offended.
James placed the larger plate in front of Chloe.
Her eyes widened.
There were eggs, bacon, crispy potatoes, buttered toast, and sliced strawberries that had somehow survived in the refrigerator.
“For me?”
“For you.”
“All of it?”
James looked at me before answering.
“As much as you want.”
Chloe took one bite of egg.
Then another.
She ate too fast.
I touched her wrist.
“Slow down, sweetheart.”
“I’m hungry.”
I looked away.
James heard it.
Of course he did.
He sat across from her, but he didn’t eat.
“Do you like ketchup?”
Chloe nodded.
James passed it over.
“You put ketchup on eggs?” Leo asked.
Chloe stared at him.
“You don’t?”
Leo muttered, “I walked into that one.”
For a few minutes, my daughter laughed.
Actually laughed.
On Christmas Eve.
I had spent weeks trying to make sure she wouldn’t understand how bad things had become.
A six-year-old always understands more than you think.
James put a second plate in front of me.
“I’m working.”
“You were working.”
“I’m still on the clock.”
“I own the building.”
I froze.
He added quietly, “Eat, Grace.”
I hated how badly I wanted to.
Pride is easy when you’re not hungry.
I sat.
The first bite almost made me cry.
I hadn’t eaten since morning.
James noticed that too, but he had the decency not to say anything.
Chloe pointed at his white shirt.
“You got egg on you.”
Leo turned away, hiding a grin.
James looked down at the yellow mark near his cuff.
“So I did.”
“My mommy says aprons are for a reason.”
“Your mommy sounds wise.”
“She is.”
My throat closed.
James glanced at me.
Something moved across his face.
It wasn’t pity.
I knew pity.
Pity looked at you from a distance.
This looked more like recognition.
After dinner, Chloe leaned back against the booth wearing James’s expensive black coat like a blanket.
Her eyelids were already falling.
James stood.
“There’s food in the kitchen you can take home.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I’m not taking charity from you.”
His expression changed.
Not angry.
Interested.
“Why not?”
“Because tomorrow I’ll still need a job.”
“You have one.”
“And because I don’t know what you expect in return.”
Leo’s head lifted.
The room became very quiet.
James studied me for a long moment.
“That’s fair.”
I hadn’t expected that.
He pulled out the chair across from me.
“Nothing.”
“People don’t give things for nothing.”
“No.”
His voice became softer.
“Usually they don’t.”
There was history in those words.
Before I could ask, Chloe stirred.
“Mommy?”
“I’m here.”
“Is it time to go?”
“Soon.”
She pushed James’s coat aside.
That was when my purse fell from the booth.
Everything spilled across the floor.
A lipstick I hadn’t used in two years.
Three receipts.
A packet of tissues.
My apartment keys.
And Daniel’s watch.
James stopped breathing.
At least, that was what it looked like.
The watch was old now.
Brown leather strap.
Scratched silver case.
One crack near the number four.
Daniel had worn it every day of our marriage until the morning he died.
Afterward, I couldn’t bear to put it in a drawer.
I carried it with me instead.
James bent down before I could.
His hand hovered over it.
He didn’t touch it.
“Where did you get that?”
Something in his voice frightened me more than any threat could have.
“It belonged to my husband.”
James looked up.
“What was his name?”
I almost laughed from nerves.
“Why?”
“Please.”
I had never imagined James Moretti used that word.
“Daniel.”
His face lost color.
“Daniel what?”
“Bennett.”
Leo moved behind him.
“Boss?”
James ignored him.
“When did Daniel Bennett die?”
Now I was standing.
“Three years ago.”
“How?”
“A work accident.”
James’s eyes stayed on the watch.
“Where?”
“A warehouse project in Charlestown.”
Leo swore quietly.
James finally picked up the watch.
He turned it over.
His thumb moved across the back.
There was an engraving I had seen a thousand times.
D.B.
Underneath it:
For courage when nobody else has any.
I had always assumed Daniel bought the watch himself.
James lowered his head.
“When did your husband tell you he got this?”
“He said it was a gift from somebody at work.”
“Did he tell you who?”
“No.”
I took a step closer.
“Why?”
James looked at me.
For the first time that night, I saw something truly frightening in his eyes.
Not violence.
Guilt.
“I knew your husband.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Daniel worked on one of my harbor projects.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“He worked for Halpern Industrial.”
“Halpern was a subcontractor.”
I stared at him.
Daniel had never once mentioned Moretti.
Not once.
James’s fingers closed around the watch.
“Your husband saved my life.”
I couldn’t speak.
Leo looked just as stunned as I felt.
James continued.
“There was a fire at Pier Fourteen. Electrical room caught before anybody knew what was happening. Daniel came back inside after everyone else got out.”
“That sounds like him.”
My voice cracked.
“He found me under a steel beam.”
James looked down at the watch.
“He refused money. Refused a promotion. Told me if I wanted to thank him, I should start listening when workers said something wasn’t safe.”
A cold feeling spread through me.
“Daniel complained about safety before he died.”
James slowly raised his eyes.
“What did you say?”
“He came home angry for weeks. Said somebody was cutting corners. He wouldn’t tell me who.”
James stood perfectly still.
Then he asked the question that changed everything.
“Grace… who told you Daniel’s death was an accident?”
“The police report. His employer. Everybody.”
James looked toward Leo.
Leo’s expression had gone hard.
James handed me the watch.
“I was told Daniel Bennett quit my company six weeks before that accident.”
I stared at him.
“He didn’t quit.”
“That’s what I was told.”
“By who?”
James hesitated.
That hesitation answered before he did.
“Mr. Moretti.”
My hand tightened around Daniel’s watch.
“By who?”
James looked straight at me.
“My cousin Vincent.”
I knew the name.
Vincent Moretti handled the legitimate side of the Moretti construction businesses.
Newspaper photographs.
Charity dinners.
City contracts.
A polished smile beside politicians and hospital donors.
James’s voice dropped.
“Vincent told me Daniel took a settlement, resigned, and moved his family north.”
A laugh escaped me.
It sounded broken.
“We never moved anywhere.”
James stared at Daniel’s watch again.
“No.”
His expression became terrifyingly calm.
“You didn’t.”
Then Chloe sat up beneath his coat.
“Mommy?”
I turned.
She was holding something.
An old photograph had fallen from the inside pocket of my purse.
Daniel.
Me.
Baby Chloe.
My family before everything disappeared.
James looked at Daniel’s face.
And whispered something I almost didn’t hear.
“Vincent told me you were gone.”
I looked at him.
“Who?”
James didn’t look away from the photograph.
May you like
“All three of you.”
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