"I hear you," Ethan replied.
He returned to the kitchen while the dining room's low conversations resumed behind him. What disturbed him most was not that Marcus had insulted him, but that the manager had considered a thirsty customer's request an unacceptable interruption to a worker's assigned boundaries. Ethan had spent years encouraging staff to resolve small guest problems without waiting for management approval. In this restaurant, a simple glass of water had become an act of defiance.
Olivia found him stacking racks with more force than necessary. "You all right?"
"He yelled at me for helping a customer."
"I heard. Everyone heard."
"Does he do that often?"
"Often enough that nobody thinks to mention it anymore."
She checked that nobody else was in the doorway, then added, "Please be careful. Temporary workers are the first people he sends away. We need help in the kitchen, but he'll let us suffer short-staffed if he thinks it proves he's in charge."
Ethan wanted to tell her that no temporary assignment could be taken from him, not in any meaningful way. Instead, he asked, "Why do you stay?"
Olivia's expression closed. "Because my mother needs groceries, and my rent doesn't care whether the manager is a good person."
By closing time Ethan had been on his feet for more than ten hours. Luis showed him how to secure the dish machine, warning him about the valve that sometimes leaked onto an electrical conduit. Ethan made a mental note of the hazard and resisted the impulse to produce his phone immediately and order repairs. It would be done, but by a documented route that protected the workers who had already reported the problem.
Olivia stood at the employee entrance struggling with the zipper of her coat. She looked past Ethan toward the parking lot and checked a message on her phone. The name on the screen was MOM, and the next words came out before she seemed to remember anyone could hear.
"Mom, I'll figure something out. I promise."
She listened, rubbing her forehead with two fingers. "Just bills. No, nothing you need to worry about. Please don't skip the appointment because of money. We'll talk when I get home."
She ended the call and noticed Ethan waiting a few steps away. For a second she looked angry, but he recognized the expression as the embarrassment of being overheard. He stepped aside to give her a clear path to the parking lot.
"I wasn't trying to listen," he said.
"I know. The walls are thin everywhere around here."
"If you need someone to talk to, I can listen. Sometimes sharing a problem makes it easier to carry."
Olivia adjusted her bag strap. "And sometimes you have to carry it yourself."
"That's true, too."
She took two steps, then stopped. "You helped Mrs. Harper without asking for anything. I suppose I can at least let someone offer the same kindness to me. But don't mistake that for permission to feel sorry for me."