Chapter 2: The Woman Who Rode Away
Chapter 2: The Woman Who Rode Away
Ethan Prescott stared at his father as though he had misheard him.
“My... what?”
Henry took another slow sip of coffee, warming his hands around the paper cup.
“I said my future daughter-in-law.”
One of Ethan's security men coughed to hide a laugh.
The woman with the tablet glanced down quickly, pretending to check her schedule.
Ethan rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“You can't decide I'm marrying a stranger because she bought you breakfast.”
Henry raised an eyebrow.
“She bought me bread.”
“And coffee.”
“She also defended me when everyone else watched.”
Henry looked directly toward the bakery window, where the owner had suddenly become fascinated with arranging croissants.
“She spent her last eighteen dollars on someone she'd never met.”
He held up the warm loaf.
“Tell me how many people in your boardroom would do that.”
Ethan didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
Almost none.
"What happened?"
Henry pointed toward the bakery.
"The gentleman inside forgot that kindness costs less than cruelty."
Ethan's expression changed.
His assistant, Claire, recognized the look immediately.
Someone was about to have a very bad morning.
She quietly opened her tablet.
"Would you like me to contact legal?"
"Not yet."
Ethan walked into the bakery alone.
The bell above the door chimed.
The owner instantly smiled.
"Mr. Prescott! I didn't realize—"
"You shoved my father."
The smile disappeared.
"I... I didn't know who he was."
"No."
Ethan's voice stayed calm.
"You knew exactly who he was."
The owner swallowed.
"He was an elderly man asking for food."
Silence filled the room.
"You believed he had no money."
Another pause.
"You believed no one important would care."
The owner's face flushed.
"It was just a misunderstanding."
Ethan looked around the spotless bakery.
Fresh pastries.
Designer espresso machines.
Imported marble counters.
Then he noticed the framed certificate near the register.
Property Managed by Prescott Commercial Holdings.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
He turned toward Claire, who had followed him inside.
"When does this lease expire?"
Claire checked.
"Six weeks."
"Renewal status?"
"Pending."
The owner's eyes widened.
"Mr. Prescott, please—"
Ethan held up one finger.
"I haven't made a decision."
Then he looked directly at the man.
"But I suggest you spend the next six weeks becoming the sort of business owner I'd be willing to rent property to."
He walked out.
The owner stood frozen.
For the first time in years, he understood what helplessness felt like.
Outside, Henry was smiling.
"You were nicer than I expected."
"I've been working on my patience."
Henry laughed.
"Your mother would be proud."
That sentence landed harder than Ethan expected.
His mother had been gone nearly five years.
She had always insisted that character revealed itself in the way people treated those who couldn't fight back.
Today, a complete stranger had lived by that lesson.
His own father had almost gone hungry while dozens of successful people hurried past without slowing down.
Except one.
"Who was she?" Ethan asked.
Henry carefully unfolded the blank business card he'd given away.
"Madison Hayes."
"Do you know anything else?"
Henry smiled.
"She rides an electric delivery bike."
"Anything useful?"
"She's stubborn."
"Dad."
"She threatened to put that bakery owner on the internet."
Ethan actually smiled.
"Smart woman."
Henry's eyes twinkled.
"Pretty, too."
Ethan sighed.
"I knew that was coming."
Meanwhile...
Madison Hayes was having the worst day she'd had in months.
The attorney had opened his apartment door before she'd even knocked.
He grabbed the breakfast bag.
Pulled out the sandwich.
Touched it.
"It's cold."
"I'm very sorry."
"I waited forty minutes."
"It was twenty-three."
"You arguing with me?"
"No, sir."
He took out his phone.
"I'm reporting this."
Madison felt her stomach sink.
The notification arrived before she even reached the elevator.
Customer Complaint Filed
Delivery Rating Reduced
Account Under Performance Review
She leaned against the hallway wall.
Not now.
Please...
Not today.
Her phone rang.
It wasn't the app.
It was Queens Memorial Storage.
She answered.
"Hello?"
"Miss Hayes, this is your final notice."
She closed her eyes.
"I know."
"Your balance is now four hundred and twelve dollars."
"I just need a little more time."
"If payment isn't received by tomorrow afternoon, we'll auction the contents."
"My mother's things are in there."
"I understand."
The employee genuinely sounded sorry.
"But we have policies."
The call ended.
Madison stared out the building's glass entrance.
People hurried across Manhattan carrying expensive coffees.
Some laughed.
Some argued into wireless earbuds.
No one noticed the young woman trying very hard not to cry.
Four hundred and twelve dollars.
She had twenty-six dollars in her checking account.
Eighteen dollars had become zero.
Her bike battery needed replacing.
Rent was due next week.
She laughed once.
A tired little sound.
"So much for good karma."
Across town, inside Prescott Global's headquarters on Park Avenue, Ethan sat through a presentation that he heard almost none of.
"...projected acquisition value reaches approximately two hundred eighty million..."
He interrupted.
"Claire."
"Yes?"
"Find Madison Hayes."
The executives around the conference table stopped talking.
Claire blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
"The woman who helped my father."
"We only have a first and last name."
"You've located property owners from photographs taken twenty years ago."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
Claire closed her tablet.
"I'll start immediately."
The meeting resumed.
Or at least everyone pretended it did.
No one missed the fact that the CEO hadn't heard another word.
Three hours later...
Claire knocked once before entering Ethan's office.
"I found her."
He looked up instantly.
"That was fast."
"Not really."
She placed a folder on his desk.
"Madison Hayes. Twenty-eight years old."
He opened it.
Delivery driver.
Part-time waitress on weekends.
No criminal record.
No lawsuits.
No social media beyond an abandoned account with pictures of homemade soup and a gray cat that had disappeared years earlier.
He kept reading.
Mother deceased.
Father unknown.
Outstanding medical debt inherited from estate complications.
Student loans.
Temporary apartment in Hell's Kitchen.
Multiple gig-economy jobs.
Average annual income...
He frowned.
"She bought Dad bread with this income?"
Claire nodded quietly.
"It appears so."
Ethan leaned back.
People with millions often donated because they could.
People with almost nothing rarely had the luxury.
Yet she had given away everything in her wallet.
Without knowing who Henry Prescott was.
Without expecting anything.
His eyes landed on one final note.
Current delivery account under disciplinary review. Possible termination pending customer complaints.
"When was this updated?"
"Thirty-two minutes ago."
He closed the folder.
"She lost income because she stopped to help my father."
Claire nodded.
"Yes."
Silence settled over the office.
Finally Ethan stood and picked up his coat.
"Cancel my afternoon."
"You have the Manhattan redevelopment meeting."
"It can wait."
"And where are you going?"
Ethan looked out over the skyline stretching beyond the glass walls.
"I'm going to find the woman who thinks good deeds only make life harder."
For the first time in years, Ethan Prescott had something more important than business.
May you like
He intended to prove her wrong.
End of Chapter 2
