Chapter 1

"You construction workers sure have big appetites, huh?"

Veronica Grant pointed at Harold Brown, her shrill voice ringing through the cafeteria.

"I charge you 18 bucks for a meal, and now you want all of my soup too? What the hell is wrong with you? You eat like you haven't seen food in a week!"

Harold Brown stood there holding his bowl, his face flushed scarlet, unsure what to do.

Dozens of workers in the cafeteria stopped eating. They were still sweating, their clothes spattered with cement and mortar.

The entire cafeteria fell silent.

I pushed my untouched lunch to the corner of the table, rose to my feet, and stared at Veronica behind the counter.

"Mrs. Muhl, there's a sign on the wall saying that the soup is free. He only took two ladles. There's no need to insult him for that."

Veronica rolled her eyes and slammed the rag on the counter. "Well, I make the damn rules around here!

"Do you know how expensive food these days is? You think I'm going to let you have all the soup you want for 18 bucks? What is this? A charity?

"If you don't like what I just said, you can eat somewhere else. We don't want greedy people like you around here!"

Aaron Tucker, our short-tempered foreman, slammed his spoon down. He shot to his feet, as if he were about to flip the table.

"Screw you! Do you think picking on someone else makes you tough? I'm done eating here!"

I grabbed Aaron by the shoulder and pushed him back onto the bench. "Let's not start a fight."

The curtain to the kitchen was pulled aside, and the owner of the cafeteria, Peter Muhl, sauntered out with a thermal flask, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He patted Aaron's shoulder and motioned for me to come over.

"Relax, Mr. Walker. My wife can be pretty blunt. Don't take it personally."

I stared at Peter and did not respond.

He exhaled a smoke ring, leaned against the counter, and finally spoke. "Mr. Walker, that being said, I've got a few things I need to get off my chest.

"Just look at your men. They don't even bother dusting themselves off after work. The moment they get in here, they leave the floor all muddy.

"I clean the tables and chairs, and they're covered in grime all over again. I have to spend an extra 80 bucks a day just to hire someone to do the dishes."

Peter flicked the ash off his cigarette and pointed toward the building next door, which had just reached the final stage of construction.

"The Vances' upscale sales center next door is finished. Over the past few days, wealthy businessmen have been pulling up in their luxury cars to check out the properties.

"You guys sit out front covered in mud, swearing like crazy. You're scaring off all the big shots who want to see these properties.

"I'll be honest. I'm barely making any money from selling boxed lunches for 18 bucks each, and you guys don't settle the bill until the end of the month. It puts a strain on my cash flow."

As I stared at Peter's greasy face, memories from three years ago came flooding back. Back then, this place was just undeveloped land, and work on site had just begun.

Peter and Veronica used to run a roadside food stand. They were lucky to even sell ten meals a day, and whatever they couldn't sell ended up going bad. I had seen them wiping away tears by the roadside.

I felt bad for Peter and Veronica, so I used Redford Development's name to back them. I helped them set up a little metal shack outside the workers' quarters and get them a temporary permit to run a cafeteria.

I also spoke to the team leaders working for me and had all six teams—more than 600 workers in total—eat at Peter's cafeteria every day.

This went on for the next three years.

Peter had gone from a makeshift roadside food stand to a 2,153-square-feet cafeteria. He even managed to buy a small delivery truck.

The Vances' upscale sales center next door was now ready. Peter sold over 1,000 boxed lunches a day, but he was now looking down on the very same construction workers who kept him in business.

I looked at Peter. "Peter, so you think they're dirtying your floors too?"

He picked up his cup and took a sip of his tea, avoiding my eyes as he mumbled. "Mr. Walker, it's just business. You know how things work. A classy place reflects on us all, right?"

Just then, two real estate agents in suits walked past the cafeteria, their IDs clipped to their jackets. The moment they glanced inside, they immediately covered their noses and hurried away with a frown.

Veronica let out a scoff. "Do you see that? People who care about appearances won't even come anywhere near here. They find this place disgusting."

In that moment, whatever was left of our friendship was gone. I pulled out my phone.

"Fine. Since you think we're hurting your business, we won't eat here anymore. I'll settle the bill for today's lunch then. How much do I owe you?"

I pulled up my banking app to make the payment. Just as I was about to leave, Veronica stepped into the doorway, blocking our way out.

Peter stood behind her, his head lowered as he smoked. He didn't utter a word.

Veronica pulled a greasy hardcover notebook from her apron pocket and slammed it onto the empty table beside her.

"You can't leave. You think paying for today's food settles everything?"

I looked at Veronica. "I'll pay what we owe for the meals. So how exactly are you going to come up with the rest of the extra charges?"

Veronica sneered, then flipped open her ledger. "You really think paying for today's bill settles everything? And what about everything from before?

"Over 600 of you were stomping around my cafeteria in your steel-toed work boots, ruining my nonslip tiles. And what about my tables and chairs? Your greasy, muddy clothes have worn them down. I'm charging you for equipment depreciation and three years' worth of deep-cleaning fees too."

Veronica raised her chin and named an outrageous sum. "50,000 dollars. Take it or leave it."

Aaron flew into a rage. "Come on! That's daylight robbery!"

Veronica put her hands on her hips as she stood right in front of the door. "Enough! You're paying us 50,000 dollars today, or none of you are leaving. Don't even think about going back to work!"