Emails.
Copies of notices sent to the diner and signed for by Stan.
And three certified letters addressed to Harper Hayes.
All unopened.
All delivered to the Midnight Owl.
Harper picked up the oldest one.
The signature on the delivery receipt belonged to Stan.
Her stomach twisted.
“You intercepted my mail?”
Stan’s answer came fast.
“They were business letters.”
“They had my name on them.”
“I thought Adrian was trying to manipulate you.”
“So you decided to do it first?”
Stan looked away.
One of the attorneys explained that Harper’s ownership had always remained intact.
Stan had never successfully transferred it.
But he had used his operational control to represent himself as the decision-maker, betting that Harper would never discover the difference between managing the diner and owning it.
Adrian had discovered the discrepancy during due diligence.
That was why he had demanded the meeting.
That was why he had insisted on privacy.
And that was why, when a furious waitress answered the phone and refused to be ordered around, he had immediately suspected something was wrong.
“I asked to speak with Harper Hayes,” Adrian said.
Harper looked at him.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
“No.
You said, ‘I need the back room cleared.’ Then you started giving instructions.”
Cole looked toward the ceiling.
Adrian rubbed one hand over his mouth.
“Apparently Cole was correct that my telephone manner could use refinement.”
For the first time that night, Harper almost smiled.
Almost.
Stan pushed away from the counter.
“This is insane.
She cannot run this place.”
Harper looked at him.
He kept going because panic had finally stripped away caution.
“She doesn’t know payroll.
She doesn’t understand taxes.
She thinks keeping regulars happy is the same as running a company.”
Adrian leaned back.
“Then it is fortunate she can hire people who understand payroll and taxes.”
Stan’s face reddened.
“And what? You’re her savior now?”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“No.”
He looked at Harper.
“She doesn’t need one.”
The words settled over the diner.
Harper stood.
She untied her apron.
Stan gave a humorless laugh.
“There it is.
She quits when things get difficult.”
Harper folded the apron carefully.
