Our Anniversary Was on the Brink — One Phone Call Turned It Around

“Good evening,” I said politely. “Ryan Walker, reservation for two.”

Marcus slowly traced his finger down his list, then looked up at me with a smile that was more of a dismissal than a greeting.

“Sir,” he said with that fake politeness that hides disrespect, “I’m afraid your table has been… reassigned.”

Lauren’s face fell. The hurt was immediate and clear. “Reassigned? But… how is that possible? It’s our 10th anniversary. He confirmed everything earlier today.”

Marcus let out a dramatic sigh, the kind someone uses when pretending to be patient with someone beneath them. “Ma’am,” he said, stretching the word in a way that felt insulting, “we had a last-minute VIP book a table. We needed yours for a guest of higher importance. Senator Brooks, to be exact.”

He paused, clearly expecting us to be stunned or impressed by the title.

“However,” he continued in a tone that pretended to be generous, “I can squeeze you in… at the bar. It’s a bit noisy there, and not as comfortable, but that’s the best we can offer at the moment.”

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