Chapter 3

Rachel and I met at a café in the city center.

She arrived before me. When I walked in, she was sitting by the window with a laptop in front of her, fingers flying across the keyboard.

She wore a well-fitted beige suit, hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her whole presence radiated professionalism and competence.

Seeing me, she immediately closed her laptop, stood up, and extended her hand.

"Nora, pleasure to finally meet you."

Her hand was warm and firm, her gaze open and bright.

"Rachel, likewise."

We sat across from each other. No unnecessary small talk.

Rachel pulled out a thick stack of documents from her briefcase and pushed them toward me.

"Nora, this is the preliminary catering proposal and quote we've prepared specifically for your company."

I picked it up and flipped through.

The proposal was incredibly detailed. From nutritionally balanced menu combinations to a full week of non-repeating daily menus.

Even customized meals for special occasions—everything was thoroughly considered.

Every ingredient's source and inspection report was attached.

Most importantly, her quote—while guaranteeing higher quality—was actually ten percent cheaper than Marcus's restaurant.

I looked up at her.

Rachel met my gaze squarely.

"Nora, I won't hide this from you. Vanessa and I have history."

She wasn't lying, just calmly stating facts.

"My previous head chef got poached by her with triple the salary. He also took several of our signature recipe formulas with him."

"After that, she spread rumors everywhere that our ingredients weren't fresh and our hygiene didn't meet standards."

I listened quietly without interrupting.

I'd heard whispers about these restaurant industry feuds, but hearing it from someone directly involved hit differently.

Rachel's face showed no resentment, only a businessperson's cool composure and honesty.

"So if your company is willing to give me this opportunity—"

She paused, her tone absolutely certain,

"I'm willing to cut another two percent from this base, and personally, I'll sign an unlimited joint liability food safety guarantee with the company."

"I need this contract. Not just for profit, but to prove my restaurant is better than theirs."

In her eyes flickered an unyielding, vibrant ambition.

This contrasted so sharply with Marcus's pathetic weakness and Vanessa's petty vanity.

I appreciated her.

A reliable adult, a trustworthy business partner—this was exactly what that should look like.

"Rachel."

I closed the proposal, leaned forward slightly, and looked into her eyes.

"Your professionalism and honesty have impressed me."

"No need for the additional discount. Let's go with this quote."

"I only have one requirement. From day one of our partnership, I want my colleagues eating the best work meals in the entire city."

Rachel's eyes lit up instantly.

She nodded emphatically:

"Nora, you have my word. I stake my reputation on it."

We drafted a letter of intent on the spot.

As we shook hands goodbye, Rachel said:

"Nora, thank you."

I smiled. "You should thank your own professionalism."

Back at the empty office, I sat at my desk and opened my computer.

First, I drafted a formal report on terminating the catering service partnership with Marcus's restaurant.

The report contained zero personal emotion.

Just facts.

I attached screenshots from the past three months from the company's internal forum and anonymous feedback channels—all the complaints about poor cafeteria food quality and questionable hygiene, along with negative satisfaction statistics.

Employee satisfaction had dropped from ninety percent two years ago to barely thirty percent now.

Shocking.

Next, I drafted a second report proposing an open bidding process to bring in a new cafeteria vendor.

In the proposal, I created a clear comparison chart between Rachel's proposal and pricing versus Marcus's restaurant's current service and costs.

Which was superior was obvious at a glance.

All documents ready.

I saved them on my desktop, naming the folder "Final Solution."

Outside the window, the sky gradually darkened.

I stared at the cold text on my computer screen, feeling completely calm inside.

Everything was in place.

Tomorrow would be a very interesting day.

Monday morning, nine o'clock.

The company's internal bulletin board and every employee's inbox simultaneously received a notice from the Operations Department.

"Announcement Regarding Change of Cafeteria Catering Service Provider."

Black and white text, official wording—but like a depth charge dropped into a calm lake.

The entire company exploded.

Break rooms and office areas instantly flooded with cheers.

One colleague even posted on Ins:

"Best thing that happened today—finally don't have to eat slop anymore!"

Ten-thirty AM.

Marcus's restaurant delivery truck rolled up to the company building as usual.

Then got stopped by security.

"Sorry, starting today our company's switching catering providers. Your truck can't enter the garage anymore."

The driver was Marcus's cousin. He was completely stunned.

He immediately called Marcus.

When Marcus got the call, he probably thought it was a mistake too.

He hung up and started frantically calling me.