Chapter 2

The man looked Arthur up and down as if he had just heard the funniest thing in the world.

"It's one lousy suit. Who are you trying to impress? If you were actually rich, would you be eating in a place like this?"

Still unsatisfied, he turned toward the other customers and began slandering Arthur.

"Everyone, take a look at this old creep. Dressing like that at his age, putting on a show for who? Disgusting!"

Whispers immediately spread through the restaurant.

Arthur shook with anger, but his lifelong self-control kept him from exploding in public.

I couldn't take it anymore. I shot to my feet and pointed straight at the man's face.

"Shut your mouth!"

His vicious words cut like knives.

"I'll say whatever I want! Are you some old blowhard wearing such clothes and showing off around here?"

Arthur's face turned deathly pale, and his fingers clamped around the edge of the table.

"Apologize!" My voice shook. "Apologize right now!"

"Apologize, my ass!" The man spat directly onto Arthur's jacket.

After one provocation after another, several customers finally stepped in.

"What is wrong with you? Being in a hurry doesn't give you the right to treat people like this."

"Mind your own damn business!" the man snapped back. "Nobody asked you!"

The restaurant descended into chaos.

Lily tried to calm everyone down, but the man shoved her aside.

"Get lost! Who do you think you are?"

Then he reached for the hot-water carafe and knocked over a full mug of scalding coffee with his rough movements.

The coffee splashed across the table and soaked into the luxury bag Arthur had placed beside him, leaving dark, uneven stains across the leather.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Arthur's brows drew together. It was the first time I had ever felt genuine fury coming from him.

The man glanced at the bag and scoffed.

"It's a fake purse. Why are you making such a fuss? Aren't you embarrassed, carrying a knockoff at your age and pretending to be wealthy?"

But Arthur had spent months securing that bag from overseas as a fiftieth-birthday gift for Judith.

"It's real!" I practically roared. "That cost a fortune. Can you afford to replace it?"

Instead of feeling guilty, the man became even more mocking.

"So what if it's real?

"Bringing a real designer bag into a place like this is nothing but showing off. You deserved it."

I completely lost control and grabbed a glass, ready to throw the water in his face.

Arthur locked both hands around my wrist. "Danny, don't." His voice was low. "Don't make more trouble for Judith."

My hand trembled, but I couldn't bear to upset him, so I lowered the glass.

Arthur insisted on paying our bill and led me out of Judy's Home Kitchen.

We sat on a bench in the small park across the street.

He said nothing and repeatedly dabbed at the bag with a napkin.

Every movement was careful and full of pain.

The liquid had already seeped into the leather, leaving ugly stains that would require serious professional restoration.

"Arthur, we can take it to a specialist." I looked at him helplessly, trying to comfort him.

He shook his head and spoke softly. "It's all right. I'm only sad because Judith never lets me buy her gifts. I finally had an excuse for her fiftieth birthday, and I wanted this bag to make her happy."

"That man isn't worth being upset over." I clenched my fists.

"I'm not upset because of him." Arthur raised his head and looked toward the restaurant.

"I'm upset for Judith. She must deal with people like that every day, and she never tells me."

"That's why," Arthur continued, his voice suddenly firm, "I should come here more often. I can't let her face all of this alone."