Black fitted pants.
Black ankle boots.
Gold earrings.
Designer handbag patterned in tan and brown.
Graham followed.
Tall.
Sixty-three.
Blond-gray hair brushed back.
Navy polo.
Khaki shorts.
Dark loafers.
Sunglasses.
They did not speak to the host at the patio entrance.
They walked directly toward Table 17.
Nia noticed because Meredith was looking at her.
Not casually.
With recognition that made no sense.
Meredith stopped beside the table.
“Excuse me.”
Nia looked up.
“Yes?”
“This table is reserved.”
Nia glanced at the small table.
“For me.”
Meredith smiled.
“No.”
Nia waited.
Meredith looked toward the restaurant entrance as if expecting an employee to correct something.
“We sit here Saturdays.”
Nia understood.
Not a reservation.
Habit.
“I was seated here.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
Nia took a sip of water.
The correct interaction could have ended there.
It did not.
Graham stepped behind Meredith.
“She’s saying this is our regular table.”
Nia looked between them.
“I understand what she’s saying.”
Meredith seemed irritated by the wording.
“Then why are you still sitting here?”
Nia stared.
Because the question was so direct that for a moment she assumed she had misunderstood it.
“I have a reservation.”
“For this table?”
“For the patio.”
Meredith smiled again.
“There are other patio tables.”
“Then I’m sure someone can seat you at one.”
Graham removed his sunglasses.
“That’s not really how it works.”
Nia looked toward him.
“How does it work?”
“This is where we sit.”
“You keep saying that.”
Meredith placed one hand on the edge of the table.
“You must be new here.”
“I’m having lunch.”
“Obviously.”
Nia noticed three things.
Meredith had not asked her name.
Had not asked whether staff seated her.
Had not called a manager before confronting her.
She simply assumed Nia was the person who needed to move.
“Would you like me to get the hostess?”
Nia asked.
Meredith laughed.
“I don’t need you to get anyone.”
“Then I’m going to continue eating.”
She picked up her fork.
That was the first moment Graham appeared embarrassed.
“Meredith.”
“What?”
“Just let them fix it.”
She looked at him.
“They should never have seated her here.”
Nia set the fork down again.
“Why?”
Meredith turned.
“What?”
“Why shouldn’t they have seated me here?”
“Because this table is held.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I have been sitting here thirty minutes.”
“You know what I mean.”
There it was.
Nia had heard versions of that phrase through hundreds of interviews.
You know what I mean.
Usually people said it when the next sentence would be less comfortable if made specific.