They Held a Wedding at My Restaurant and Refused to Pay,So I Called the Police

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I took a deep breath, opened Leila's profile, and scrolled back through every message the two of us had ever exchanged.

In the last six months alone, Leila had hosted people at my diner seventeen times.

Every time she finished, she'd wipe her mouth, drop her fork, and walk out.

Always the same line:

[We're basically family. Just put it on my tab.]

I'd run this place for four years and sunk more than half a million dollars into it.

Back when I opened, Leila had spent about ten dollars on two clearance flower baskets from a resale site.

And now that her brother-in-law was getting married, she wanted me to cater thirty-six tables for free, out of my own pocket, to repay her.

With premium bourbon, premium cigarettes, and full wedding decor too.

Before I left the group, I glanced at the newest message.

Someone calling herself the aunt on the Whitney side had sent a voice note:

[Leila, honey, is this friend of yours actually up to it? Free is fine, but don't let it come off cheap, or us Whitneys won't stand for it!]

Leila fired back instantly:

[Don't you worry, Aunt Abbott. Her diner is my diner. I promise we'll do it up right.]

The thirty-thousand-dollar monthly rent on that diner, I paid it myself.

The wages for the kitchen staff and the servers, I paid those too.

What was it Leila had said when she shoved those flower baskets at me?

[Consider this my stake in the place. When you hit it big someday, don't you forget about me.]

I didn't forget. So when she hosted people, I didn't charge her.

When she got married, I didn't charge her.

When her mother had her birthday party, I didn't charge her.

When her son's first month was celebrated, I didn't charge her.

And now, even her brother-in-law's wedding, she wanted me not to charge for that too.

The phone buzzed again. Nathaniel had sent a long voice message.

[Leila, have your friend prep the reception to this standard.]

[Eight cold dishes, sixteen hot dishes, four mains, two desserts.]

[One Australian lobster per person, and every Maine lobster tail over two pounds.]

[A whole roast suckling pig, done fresh. The sea cucumber has to be prime filet mignon grade, and I want jumbo scallops.]

[Party favors are up to you, one per guest, and don't make it look cheap.]

The corner of my mouth twitched. I was still wondering what other absurd demand he could come up with when the next message popped up.

[Oh, and have your friend arrange the wedding cars while she's at it. Five or six is plenty, nothing too fancy, Audi or Mercedes is fine.]

Reading that, I actually laughed out of sheer anger, opened the calculator, and ran the numbers.

Two hundred thousand dollars, minimum, just to start.

Then Leila tagged me in the group too.

[Vinnie, we're family, so I won't stand on ceremony with you.]

[Clear the diner two days ahead, no walk-ins, and prep properly.]

[My mom says if this reception goes off beautifully, all my family's future events will be booked at your place.]

[That's me bringing you business. I treat you pretty well, don't I?]