“Why?”
“Because if I was only ‘helping out,’ he probably shouldn’t have spent the whole summer telling customers I worked there.”
For the first time that night, I stopped being angry long enough to be impressed.
Then Sloan said, “That’s not the best one.”
She showed me another exchange.
After Santiago refused to discuss the issue over text, Sloan had sent one final message.
“Please confirm whether you’re saying you never agreed to pay me for the hours I worked this summer.”
His answer had arrived 11 minutes later.
“I said I’d pay you when summer was over. Stop making this difficult.”
I actually laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because Santiago had managed to deny owing Sloan money and admit owing Sloan money in the same conversation.
“He contradicted himself.”
“I know.”
“So now we call him.”
“No.”
I stared at her.
“What are you waiting for?”
Sloan checked the time. “Saturday.”
“What’s Saturday?”
For the first time, she smiled. Then she showed me Santiago’s latest text.
“Need you at the truck Saturday at 10. Biggest event we’ve got left, so don’t be late.”
I looked from the message to Sloan.
“He hasn’t paid you since June and expects you to work Saturday?”
“Since May.”
“And you’re smiling?”
Sloan put her phone down.
“Mom, Saturday is the school fundraiser.”
I knew exactly which one she meant.
Hundreds of families, games, food vendors. An all-day event Santiago had been talking about for weeks.
Then I understood.
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