So I picked up their order, walked back smiling, and switched the little table number sign from 14 to 41 before setting the food down.
It sounds stupid now, but table numbers controlled which receipts went where during the lunch rush. My manager had spent fifteen years memorizing every loophole difficult customers tried pulling for free meals, chargebacks, or fake complaints. Apparently my ex-fiancé had already become one of those customers months earlier.
About twenty minutes after they finished eating, the district supervisor walked into the café carrying printed security screenshots.
Not because of me.
Because my manager quietly reported my ex the week before for repeatedly using stolen loyalty accounts to pay for meals. The wallet he dropped beside the table wasn’t actually his. It belonged to another customer who’d complained about missing credit card charges two days earlier. My manager recognized it immediately from the camera footage.
The part that shocked me wasn’t my ex getting caught stealing in front of his new girlfriend. It was her reaction once security started asking questions. She looked completely blindsided. Then she quietly admitted she thought my ex owned the downtown apartment he bragged about online.
He didn’t.
It was still my lease. He’d just never removed his clothes after telling me to leave.
Three months later, he’s awaiting trial for fraud involving multiple stolen accounts connected to restaurant rewards apps across the city. Last week my manager promoted me to shift lead after another hostess quit unexpectedly. While closing register three, I found an old loyalty card bent behind the counter with my ex’s handwriting still scratched across the back: “Future millionaire.”