He picked his city center location, the first one he had launched, where his mother once assisted with baking pies!

The manager rushed out from the back, pale and scrambling. “Mr. Ellis — I didn’t know you were—”

“That was intentional,” Jordan said. Then he turned to the cashiers. “You’re suspended effective immediately. Ruben will decide if you return after full retraining. If you can’t respect customers, you don’t belong here.”

The young cashier’s eyes watered. Jordan didn’t soften. “Save the tears. You’re not sorry. You’re cornered. That’s different.”

They left without another word.

Jordan grabbed an apron from the back hook and tied it on. The staff stared. The customers stared. He didn’t care. He stepped behind the counter like he used to in the early days, poured water for the construction worker, apologized to the mother who’d been ignored, checked on the elderly man, refilled coffees, wiped tables, swept the floor.

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