Chapter 2

“So, are lifesavers only worth two thousand dollars now?”

Ms. Zena’s face became flushed.

Flora looked down at her fingernails. “Bernard, that’s not very nice of you to say. A worker is just a worker. Bosses treat you well so that you’ll work harder, right? It’s a mutual arrangement; don’t make it sound like he’s done us some huge favor.”

Bernard glared at her, like he was shooting daggers out of them. “Shut up! You’re just as ungrateful as the rest of them!

“When you first started here and a guest was yelling right in your face, it was Mr. Lane who stepped in front of you and took the cup of tea that was thrown at you. Ask yourself and tell me, was that a ‘mutual arrangement’?

“When your boyfriend beat you up, you called Mr. Lane in the middle of the night in tears. Without a word, he drove over to pick you up and covered your stay at a hotel for a whole week! How dare you say things like that now?”

Flora fell silent.

Bernard turned to Wade. “And you. When you got into a fight and got detained, your family couldn’t reach you. It was Mr. Lane who went to the police station to bail you out and pay the five-thousand-dollar bond. After you got out, you said to him with tears in your eyes, ‘I’ll work like a slave for you for the rest of my life.’ Have you already forgotten what you said so quickly?”

Wade’s face paled but quickly turned red as he snapped in anger. “Bernard, that’s enough! Who doesn’t want to make some extra cash? Just because you’re going with Mr. Lane, you’re so noble and great, is that it?”

“I’m not noble,” Bernard said as he enunciated each word clearly. “I just have a conscience.”

I looked at Bernard, and my eyes stung.

His father was bedridden, and his mother was hauling bricks at a construction site.

I had helped him contact the neighborhood office to apply for financial assistance.

I had also pulled some strings to get his son into kindergarten.

He never once thanked me. But every morning, he was the first one at the restaurant. He would scrub the kitchen until it was shiny enough to see our reflections.

“Enough!” I interrupted them. “Harvey stole my trade secrets for half a year and pushed me out of business. Now, you’re all going to work for the guy who stole my recipes?”

“Harvey learned them openly and honestly. You chose to teach him. No one forced you. Besides, when you run a business, don’t we all learn from someone else?” Flora said with conviction.

I laughed through gritted teeth. It seemed that they were determined to follow Harvey.

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But remember the way you’re walking out today. Don’t regret it later,” I calmly replied.

The three of them took off their aprons and left.

“Mr. Lane, I’m coming with you. Even if you just set up a street stand, I’ll still chop up the vegetables for you,” Bernard said tearfully.

At that moment, his words momentarily soothed all my bitterness and disappointment.

“Alright.” I nodded. “Let’s start over.”

After searching all day, I found a larger, more affordable storefront three blocks away and immediately contacted the landlord to rent it.

Harvey thought he had stolen my recipe.

He did not know that my secret blend of spices was the real recipe. I had learned it from a seventy-year-old retired herbalist far in the countryside.

Made from over a dozen medicinal herbs, the blend would become more fragrant the longer the ingredients marinated in it.

To complement the spice blend, I specifically developed matching recipes.

Without that secret spice blend, the food would become more bitter the longer it marinated and cooked. Anyone who ate it would get a sore throat.

They wanted to open another buffet and grill restaurant? Fine.

I would let them open one.

They would learn that some things simply could not be stolen.

My contract would expire in five days.

Jasper sent me a message in a matter-of-fact tone. [Hurry up and move out. You’ll have to pay a penalty for every extra day.]

So, I contacted several moving companies. The first one hung up as soon as they heard the address.

The second one said outright, “Mr. Smith has given us a heads-up. We don’t dare take jobs in this alley.”

The third one was even more blunt. “Mr. Lane, it’s not that we don’t want to help you, but fat old Smith has made it clear: whoever takes your job can forget about doing business on this whole street from now on.”

Bernard, who was listening nearby, clenched his fists.