He no longer wore the immaculate navy blazer that had once made him look as if he belonged permanently behind a leasing desk.
He wore a gray sweater, dark trousers, and reading glasses hanging from his collar.
The owner ordered coffee.
He ordered tea.
She noticed.
“You gave up coffee?”
“My cardiologist won.”
“That sounds unlikely.”
“He had charts.”
“Charts are persuasive.”
He smiled.
Then the smile vanished.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally he said:
“I lied to you.”
She placed her cup down.
“When?”
“The day with the drink.”
Her face became still.
“About what?”
He looked toward the lobby windows.
“Not exactly lied.”
“That phrase usually means lied.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
He took a breath.
“I told you I knew some of the worker complaints.”
“Yes.”
“I knew more.”
She said nothing.
He continued.
“Not everything.”
“But enough.”
“How much?”
He rubbed one hand over the other.
“I had received written complaints before.”
“From maintenance?”
“Two.”
“Security?”
“One.”
“Retail employees?”
“One informal email.”
The owner felt old anger waking.
Not the hot humiliation of fruit punch.
Something colder.
“You told me there were verbal complaints.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because I deleted the written ones.”
Silence.
The café sounds seemed to fall farther away.
The owner’s voice became quiet.
“You deleted them.”
“Yes.”
“From the property system?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked ashamed.
“The boutique’s regional director complained to our asset-management company.”
“What about?”
“That I was allowing contracted workers to challenge tenant requests.”
The owner stared.
“Challenge requests.”
“Yes.”
“Meaning refuse things outside their scope.”
“Yes.”
“And your response was to remove their complaints.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Yes.”
She leaned back.
“Did anyone instruct you to delete them?”
“No.”
“That matters.”
“I know.”
“Did anyone threaten your job?”
“Not directly.”
“Rent numbers?”
“Yes.”
“Bonus?”
He looked down.
That answered.
The owner understood.
Property-management bonuses had partly depended on tenant retention and satisfaction.
She had changed that years ago.
At the time, she believed the incentive system had merely discouraged managers from taking worker complaints seriously.
Now she was hearing that one manager had actively removed them.
“How many?”
she asked.
“I found four before we sold.”
“You found?”
“I kept copies.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because I knew deleting them was wrong.”
The answer angered her more.
“You knew enough to preserve copies for yourself but not enough to keep them in the system.”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
He reached into a leather bag.
Removed a sealed envelope.
She did not touch it.