For Fancy Lunch, My Team Lost Their Wages

"Well, what do you think, Claire? Isn't this a whole lot better than the frozen garbage you ordered?"

Vivian Sinclair pushed open her lunchbox with her red-lacquered fingers. It contained black truffles, foie gras, and lobster tails. Even the blueberries on the side were served in individual glass ramekins.

She continued, "This organic gourmet meal service only offers 30 portions a day. They pride themselves on freshness and quality, something mass-produced fast-food meals can't even begin to match. My uncle orders from them whenever he entertains clients."

Vivian's uncle, James Kincaid, headed this branch.

She had been parachuted into the department as an intern a month ago. She couldn't even put together a basic spreadsheet, yet she ran roughshod over everyone in the department, all because she had connections.

My colleagues gathered around, raising their phones to take pictures.

"Whoa… Vivian, you should've joined us sooner!"

"Look at that lobster! Compared to our usual sandwiches, we might as well have been eating pig swill."

"Vivian actually cares about our health. Unlike a certain someone who orders the cheapest meal sets for us every day. Who knows how much kickback she's been pocketing from the restaurant under the table?"

I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone, pulling up the company's expense reimbursement policy. "But company policy clearly states—"

Before I could finish speaking, she cut me off. "Are you attempting to use company policy against me? I'm only doing this because everyone works so hard and deserves a healthy meal!

"Are you seriously that afraid of us switching restaurants, or are you afraid you won't get your kickbacks anymore?"

Vivian raised her hand and shoved my lunchbox off the table. The lid popped open, spilling its contents across the floor. Sauce splattered onto my sleeve.

Heavy silence settled over the room.

My boyfriend, Marcus Vaughn, was the Human Resources manager of the branch. He happened to walk over from the Human Resources department.

Instinctively, he pulled her behind him. "Can you stop being so confrontational, Claire? Vivian merely wants everyone to eat a little better. Why do you always have to make things so tense?"

We had been together for three years. He was well aware of how much effort I'd put into securing a better deal with that restaurant. I'd gone out during my lunch break every day for a week to taste-test the meals.

Vivian sidled up to him and hooked her finger around his tie. "Did I get you into trouble?"

Marcus patted her hand reassuringly. "No, she doesn't call the shots here."

Vivian flashed me a taunting smirk from behind Marcus.

One after another, my colleagues picked up their lunchboxes and tossed them into the trash.

"That's enough. Since everyone prefers this, we should just let Vivian order our lunch from now on."

"Exactly. You're always trying to save the boss' money. It's not like this is your company!"

I tightened my grip on the paper napkin. My fingertips were soaked with sauce.

"Fine. Since you're all in agreement, Vivian will be in charge of ordering lunch from now on. I'm washing my hands of the whole thing."

I pulled up the group chat and sent a message. "Vivian Sinclair will be responsible for our team's lunch arrangements from now on. I will no longer be involved."

My colleagues immediately replied, "Alright."

I saved the message and tucked the procurement records back into my bag.

Vivian smiled. "None of this would've happened if you'd been this cooperative from the start."

Without uttering a single word, I bent down to pick up my scattered utensils.

After returning to my cubicle, I looked up the private catering service's ordering page. It was 280 dollars a set, excluding delivery.

Staring at the price, I slowly loosened my grip on the crumpled napkin. Each employee was entitled to a 25-dollar daily meal stipend. Any additional expenses that hadn't been approved in advance would be deducted from the employee's wages at the end of the month.

I closed the webpage. Right then, a new message from Dad popped up on my phone. "Sweetheart, once your rotation ends, it's time we talked about the arrangements for you to take over the company."