Chapter 2

The next day was Saturday. I didn't have to go into the office.

But my internal clock still woke me up at seven sharp.

Outside the window, the sky was gray and overcast, like it might rain.

I didn't stay in bed. I got up, washed up, and made myself a simple breakfast.

My phone buzzed. A small company group chat was lighting up.

A few colleagues from different departments I was on decent terms with were chatting.

"Oh my God, did you guys eat yesterday afternoon's food? I almost threw up that steak."

"I seriously think their kitchen knocked over the salt shaker. It was so salty it tasted bitter."

"It's been two months now, right? The cafeteria food keeps getting worse. Either too salty or too greasy, and there were bugs in the vegetables."

"Shh, keep it down. After all, they're Nora's relatives. We shouldn't say too much."

"What relatives? I heard they're friends. Really close ones."

"Still, they should at least be worth what we're paying, right? The quality—even fast food takeout is better than this."

That one phrase, "Nora's relatives," was like a tiny thorn stabbing into my eye.

I put down my sandwich. Instantly lost my appetite.

Because of Marcus, my professionalism had already been discounted in my colleagues' eyes.

I'd become the person who played favorites, who sacrificed employee benefits to take care of her "connections."

I opened Ins and scrolled down out of habit.

Vanessa's profile picture popped up in the latest posts.

A carefully edited selfie with a brand-new red sports car steering wheel in the background. The logo in the center of the wheel gleamed.

On her hand was a just-purchased luxury brand bag, latest collection.

The caption read:

"My husband works so hard. All our effort deserves the best rewards!"

Every word dripped with undisguised pride and showing off.

I clicked on the image and zoomed in.

Blinding.

I laughed coldly.

So this "effort" meant talking behind my back, painting me as a greedy bloodsucker?

Meant cutting corners on employee meal standards over and over, skimming costs to fund your luxury lifestyle?

Under the post, Marcus's comment was pinned at the top.

A heart emoji followed by:

"As long as you're happy, babe."

So loving. So harmonious.

My finger unconsciously scrolled up, flipping through their Ins from the past two years.

From cautious at first to completely shameless later.

New car today, new house tomorrow, European vacation the day after.

Vanessa's Ins was basically a nouveau riche flexing documentary.

And me?

I looked down at my phone that I'd been using for nearly three years. The screen edges already had some scratches.

These past two years, to help balance their restaurant's books, to get them back on track as quickly as possible, I'd even proactively suggested shortening their payment terms from quarterly to monthly.

That meant how much extra communication and reporting I had to do.

How many times I had to go back and forth with the finance department.

Had they forgotten all that?

No. They hadn't forgotten.

They just thought it was all perfectly natural.

That it was what I should do.

The suppressed fire in my chest finally found an outlet and blazed up.

I wasn't running a charity.

My kindness and loyalty weren't cheap goods they could squander and trample on however they wanted.

I exited Ins and found a number in my contacts I'd barely ever called.

The name read: Rachel.

I dialed her number.

"Hello?"

A crisp, capable woman's voice came through.

"Hi, this is Nora."

My voice was so calm it didn't ripple at all.

"I'd like to meet with you to discuss our company cafeteria catering contract. Do you have time tomorrow?"