Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Wesley posted the menu in the company group chat. He was not only continuing to order premium beef lunch boxes but had also added a trendy afternoon tea service with fancy pastries and imported fruit flown in from abroad.

I quickly looked up the prices.

A tiny piece of cake cost 120 dollars. A freshly brewed coffee was 88 dollars. As for the imported fruit, just a few strawberries cost 59 dollars.

The group chat exploded with excitement. Messages flooded in one after another.

[You're the best, Wesley! Thanks for looking out for us!]

[Thanks, Wesley! We finally get to stop eating that disgusting food!]

[Wesley, you sure treat us well! Working with you means we get to eat like royalty!]

After soaking up a flood of compliments, Wesley tagged me separately.

[Griffin, want to order something today? I can add yours to the order.]

I turned him down immediately: [No thanks. I can't afford it.]

The moment I sent the message, the group chat fell silent for a second before erupting.

[Can't afford it? The company is paying to improve our meals, and he's acting all high and mighty.]

[LOL. If you can't afford it, stop being jealous. You're ruining the mood!]

Joyce chimed in too: [Wesley is doing something nice for everyone, trying to make our lives better, and you are still making snide remarks. What a killjoy.]

I did not bother replying. I simply closed the chat.

At noon, the delivery arrived right on time.

The office was filled with the rich smell of sea urchin and black truffles. My coworkers gathered around to take pictures, while Wesley stood in the middle of the crowd, grinning from ear to ear.

I had been working overtime for several days, and my stomach was already bothering me. The heavy, greasy smell made me break out in a cold sweat. I had no choice but to retreat to the break room and make myself a bowl of plain noodle soup.

I had barely picked up my bowl when Wesley walked in.

As he passed me, he tilted his hand and dumped the coffee grounds and oily broth from his leftover takeout container straight into my noodles.

Boiling water splashed onto the back of my hand, instantly raising a patch of painful blisters.

"Oh, sorry about that, Griffin," Wesley said, putting on a show of regret. "I thought nobody wanted this."

The commotion quickly attracted a crowd, with Joyce leading the charge.

When she saw the terrible burns on the back of my hand, she showed not the slightest concern. Instead, she scolded me with open disgust.

"Griffin, everyone is having a good time eating together, and you just have to hide in here with your instant noodles? Who are you trying to disgust? Have you not embarrassed me enough already?"

I looked at her calmly. "I'm spending my own money on my own food. How exactly does that embarrass you?"

"You're deliberately trying to humiliate Wesley!" Joyce grabbed my arm and forcibly pulled me away from the counter. "Go apologize to Wesley right now, then join everyone else and order the same meals! You're a grown man. Stop acting like you have to be different from everyone else and making us all look bad!"

I wrenched my arm free and shot back icily, "Your base salary is 8,000 dollars a month. How many days do you think you could afford to eat meals like these?"

Joyce stared at me as if I had lost my mind. "What are you talking about? These are work meals! Why would I have to pay for them?"

Wesley stepped forward, lifting his chin smugly.

"Exactly! As long as the receipts are in order, the company will reimburse us. We work for a big company, so why not take advantage of the benefits? Everyone should eat whatever they want and stop worrying about the cost!"

My coworkers nodded enthusiastically.

"Wesley is a genius! This is exactly how company benefits should be used!"

"Take notes, Griffin. Stop pinching pennies over thirty dollars every day."

"Unlike certain people who get put in charge of ordering lunch and start acting like they own the company, constantly worrying about saving management money."

The company only reimbursed thirty dollars per work meal. I had always handled the orders for our department, so nobody had paid much attention to the details. However, Wesley had definitely been told about the policy during his onboarding. Had he really been so careless that he thought he could get away with charging the company for all that?

Wesley basked in the praise, looking more pleased with himself by the second. Then, he turned back to me.

"Griffin, you've been managing the department's meal-ordering system all this time. Since you clearly don't know how to handle the job, hand over your access to me. I'll take care of everything from now on. It will be much more efficient that way."

I forced myself to ignore the throbbing pain in my burned hand and smiled. "Are you sure?"