Cash Back Tycoon: Spend Big, Earn Bigger

The only friend who texted

Dunmore tried to tear the transfer papers in half before Ethan even finished reading them.

The documents had arrived through email three minutes after the system announcement, sent by a law firm called Calloway and Frost. Dunmore had gotten the printed copy from the office printer with shaking fingers. Ethan watched him pull the paper apart and then watched him realize that the original was already stored in the cloud, stamped and notarized.

"That will not help you," Ethan said. "The ownership is registered under my name and this store belongs to me now."

"This is a scam," Dunmore said hoarsely. "Some kind of fraud. Nobody inherits a flagship store because of a clearance suit."

"Then call your regional director again."

Dunmore did not call him again. He had already heard the director's voice and nothing about it had struck him as a joke.

Ethan changed in the fitting room, the one Brielle had refused him, and the charcoal suit fit his shoulders as if it had been cut for him. As he stepped out, the people in the showroom stopped talking and the wet, hunched man with the cardboard box had vanished, replacing him with a straight-backed stranger who stood in his place.

Brielle stood by the counter, her hands clasped tightly together so that her knuckles had turned white.

"Mr. Vance, I am so sorry," she began. "I did not realize who you were. If there is any way I can make this right I will do anything."

"You did not need to know who I was," Ethan said. "You only needed to treat a customer like a human being."

"Please, I have a lease payment due and my mother is in the hospital."

For a moment Ethan hesitated because he knew exactly what it was like to have a life hanging from a single paycheck. Then he remembered the way she had laughed behind her hand and the way she had directed him to the sale rack as if he were a stray dog.

"You will receive your final pay and one month of severance," he said. "After that you are no longer employed here. Dunmore, you will stay on probation and I will review every complaint that was ever filed against you."

Dunmore opened his mouth and then closed it again.

Ethan took his empty cardboard box from the counter and threw it in the trash on his way out.

His phone buzzed before he reached the sidewalk.

It was a message from Marcus Bell, a classmate from university that he had not spoken to in almost a year. The text was short and clumsy, the way Marcus always wrote when he was worried.

Saw the video of you getting thrown out of Hartwell. I do not believe a word of it. Are you okay? I am off shift at six if you need to talk.

Ethan read it three times.

Everyone else in his life had walked away in a single day, and this was the only person that had reached towards him instead. He remembered the nights in the library when Marcus had split his own instant noodles in half so that Ethan could eat.

He typed back with a thumb that no longer shook.

Meet me at the Grand Regency at seven. Dinner is on me.

The reply came within seconds.

Are you serious? Ethan, that place costs a month of my salary for one meal.

Trust me, Ethan wrote. Wear whatever you have.

The wallet icon in the corner of his vision pulsed gently and it showed twenty-five thousand dollars, clean and bright numbers.

The Grand Regency Hotel rose over the harbor like a pillar of glass and gold.

Ethan arrived first and a doorman in a white uniform took one look at the Armani suit and bowed his head. The doorman had turned him away at dawn but he still bowed, and Ethan filed that lesson away with all the others.

Marcus came ten minutes later, wearing a gray jacket with frayed cuffs and holding his phone like a shield.

"This is insane," Marcus said as they crossed the marble lobby. "Where did you even get a suit like that? Wait, did you steal something? Because I saw the news about the money at Hartwell and I told everyone you would never do that."

"I did not steal anything," Ethan said. "Somebody else did and he put my name on it."

"Who?"

"My old boss. His name is Harris and I intend to prove it."

Marcus stared at him for a long moment and then his shoulders relaxed. "Then I am with you. Whatever you need."

That sentence, spoken so simply in the middle of a golden lobby, made Ethan's chest ache more than anything the other people had done to him all day.

The Sky Terrace restaurant occupied the fortieth floor, with windows that looked down the whole glittering city. The host studied Marcus's worn jacket with open disapproval and moved to block the way.

"Do you have a reservation?"

"I do," Ethan said. "Vance, table for two, by the window."

"I do not see that name."

"Then add it, and do it politely."

The host's mouth tightened, but he found a table near the glass and treated the two men with stiff, minimal courtesy. Ethan let it pass, because tonight he had a better lesson in mind.

He ordered the tasting menu for both of them, and added a bottle of vintage wine that cost more than Marcus's monthly rent. Marcus protested twice and Ethan simply smiled and told him to eat.

They ate for two hours. They talked about the old library and the professor who had hated them both and the girl Marcus had been too afraid to ask out in their final year. For the first time since Lily had left, Ethan laughed without any bitterness.

The bill arrived on a leather tray at nine o'clock. The total was three thousand eight hundred and sixty dollars.

Marcus went pale. "Ethan, we can split this, or I can work it off, or..."

"Put your wallet away."

Ethan laid his black card on the tray and the waiter carried it off with a nod.

He felt the system stir before it spoke.

[ Ding! ]

[ Qualifying purchase detected. Amount spent: $3,860.00. ]

[ Social value assessment: the Host treated a loyal friend to the finest dinner in the city, and he did it without arrogance. Kindness bonus applied. ]

[ Tier One Cashback is now unlocking. ]

[ Reward: 100% ownership of the Grand Regency Hotel, including its land, its staff contracts, and its entire brand. ]

Ethan's fork slipped from his fingers and rang against the plate.

Marcus looked up. "Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I am fine," Ethan said slowly. "I think I just bought a hotel."

At that exact moment, the restaurant's general manager came striding across the floor with his tie crooked and his forehead shining with sweat. He bowed so deeply that his hair nearly touched the table.

"Mr. Vance, welcome. I am Alden Pryce, general manager of the Grand Regency. I only learned a few minutes ago who you are, and I apologize for every moment of poor service."

Marcus's jaw dropped open.

Pryce straightened and lowered his voice with nervous urgency. "Sir, there is one matter that cannot wait. The Whitmore family has booked our entire ballroom for an engagement party tonight, and they are our largest account of the year. Their son, Chad Whitmore, is announcing his engagement at ten o'clock."

Ethan set his napkin down very carefully.

"Tell me," he said. "Who is the bride?"