Chapter 3: Burgers, Beers, and Secrets

Melissa and I rolled into the diner, where Jake was already camped in the best booth—under the neon, halfway through a plate of fries. He grinned wide as we walked in. "Yo, Ryan! Not bad! Where’d you find such a gorgeous girlfriend?" He whistled, elbowing me. Melissa just laughed, unfazed by his lack of filter.

I quickly explained to Melissa that Jake was my childhood buddy—a good guy, just a little blunt. She relaxed, amused. Jake caught my eye and signaled the waitress for a round of beers—"make it cold." The whole booth started to feel like a real party.

Jake raised his glass. "First time meeting you, Melissa, but you’re already part of the family. Just don’t judge us by Ryan’s cooking." Melissa giggled and toasted him back, shooting me a playful look. It became an inside joke by the end of the meal, with even the waitress grinning at Jake’s repeated "sis-in-law."

We ate and drank for four hours. The jukebox in the corner played Springsteen, the Formica tables sticky with syrup, and the waitress called everyone 'hon' as she refilled our mugs. The burgers were greasy, the fries crisp, and the beer just cold enough to wash away thoughts of layoffs. We laughed till our sides hurt.

Jake and I hadn’t seen each other in a year, but he played perfect wingman. Stories from high school, tales from the job site—nothing was off-limits. Melissa fit right in, trading stories and comebacks with ease. By the end, both Jake and I were tipsy, talking too loud and too fast. I slung an arm around Melissa, tracing little circles on her back. She leaned in, eyes shining.

At some point, someone brought up the layoffs. Jake toasted "to new beginnings," and we all groaned. He said our boss was generous—"Most real estate companies are broke, but yours gave out fat severance. Did you guys win the lottery or what?"

I said, "What do you know? Do you even know why our project stopped? They found something insane at the site." The beer loosened my tongue, and I couldn’t resist showing off. Right then, Melissa’s shoulder stiffened. The air thickened. Jake and Melissa both stared. "What did they find?"

Feeling cocky, I blurted it out: "Gold. So much gold you couldn’t count it all."

For a second, the whole diner seemed to freeze. Jake stopped laughing. I barely remember the rest—stories, clatter of dishes, Melissa’s eyes on me. Soon after, we called it a night. Jake flagged the check, and I staggered out with Melissa on my arm.

That night, Melissa didn’t go home. She looped her arm through mine, whispering, "You’re too drunk to be alone tonight." She took me to a hotel. The front desk clerk barely looked up as we checked in. My mind spun with nerves and hope—could tonight be the night? It felt like a Christmas miracle might actually be in the cards.

After a shower, I was antsy as hell. Just as I was holding Melissa close, she suddenly asked, "How did you know there was gold at the site?" Her tone was soft, almost teasing, but her eyes were sharp.

"Of course I saw it," I said without thinking.

"How did you see it?" She edged closer, hand on my chest, gaze never leaving mine.

"Heh, I didn’t just see it—I even snuck a piece for myself." The thrill of the confession hit me, half brag, half confession. "Huh? Where’s the gold now?"

"Of course it’s at…" I trailed off, suddenly unsure, but the beer kept me talking. I told her about the chaos, the crowd, how I scooped it up. Her eyes sparkled, but she didn’t interrupt.

Melissa’s body was tense, but she didn’t pull away. She let me pull her close, arms winding around my neck. The rest of the night blurred into laughter and tangled sheets.

Afterward, she asked again where the gold was. I could barely keep my eyes open, mumbled it was at home, and fell asleep. The last thing I heard was her voice, gentle but persistent, and then darkness.

When I woke, Melissa was already up, putting on makeup in the pale winter light. She looked perfect, not a hair out of place. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, nuzzling her neck, but this time she pulled away, her lips pressed thin.

Her face was a little cold. "Why didn’t you tell me about the gold before?" Her voice was sharper, and I felt my defenses rise.

I finally remembered what I’d said and cursed myself for drinking so much. I shrugged, hoping to play it off. "You know how it is—everyone’s got a theory. I just wanted to sound cool."

Her expression hardened. "Who did you hear it from? How could you make it sound so real if you were just making it up?"

I forced a laugh. "What do you think I do? I’m in marketing—I make things sound good! I just overheard some workers talking when I went back to the apartment that afternoon."

She stared. "Then why’d you say you picked up a piece?"

I shrugged. "You know how strict our site was—like Fort Knox. How could I get in? I was just bragging."

She let the silence stretch, making me squirm. "Did you tell anyone else about the gold?" Her tone was soft, but I heard the steel.

"Why are you still on this? I was just drunk and bragging last night. Normally, I’d never say anything. You know about that NDA, right? I wouldn’t dare blab." I let some irritation show, remembering the triple penalty.

She forced a smile, gathered her things. When I hugged her again, she turned, saying she’d gotten a call from a friend in Chicago and had to leave. Her words hit like a cold shower. I frowned, feeling the mood drop.

I grumbled, "Come on, you’re ditching me now? Who’d ask you to come over right before Christmas?"

She flashed her trademark smile and showed me her flight itinerary. "Really, I’m not lying. I’ll be back in a couple of days—wait for me."

Seeing the ticket, I forced a smile. "Alright, I’ll let you off this time. Come find me as soon as you’re back."

"Okay." She kissed my cheek, packed up, and left. The room felt colder, emptier. I slept a bit more, then checked out and walked home, the sky gray with promise of more snow. I tried to convince myself I was just being paranoid.

Her questions echoed in my head. Could Melissa have been sent by the company? It sounded crazy, but after everything, I wasn’t ruling anything out.

But thinking about last night, I laughed at myself. Who’d go to such lengths just for a rumor? She was probably just curious. Right, there’s someone I need to thank first.

Jake had played perfect wingman. I owed him. I pulled out my phone and called. No answer. I frowned, tried again—voicemail. Not like him.