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Before I had even finished, a coworker protested, "Come on, Nora, the food at your family's place is so good!"

I didn't answer.

My family's restaurant was small, but it was spotless.

My parents grew all the vegetables themselves.

They bought the beef and fish only from trusted suppliers.

Even the spices had to be certified organic.

In my last life, to take the company's order, I had my parents drop several long-standing regulars.

We started stocking up two months ahead and were run off our feet.

This time, I refused to put my family through that again.

Before the coworker could press me further, Fiona cut in, "What is this? Three dishes and she has the nerve to charge eight dollars? Nora, do you think this company belongs to your family? Exactly how big a cut are you taking?"

She rattled the menu aggressively.

"Ratatouille, prawns in wine, char-grilled pork neck. Aren't those all ordinary dishes? A tray of shrimp costs only a few dollars at the grocery store, and you charge eight dollars for one lunch? That profit margin is obscene."

She had no idea my mother went out of her way to buy organic produce.

The wild-caught prawns arrived by boat before dawn every morning.

My father even had the Iberico pork flown in from Spain.

With costs like that, the margin was pitiful.

I could not be bothered to explain. I simply nodded. "That's fine. If you don't want to eat it, don't."

"You folks are resourceful. I'm sure you'll find someone better than us."

Before I could finish, Gavin frowned. "Fiona's only being practical. Why do you have to be so snide about it?"

In my last life the whole company shut me out, and nobody would even sit next to me at lunch.

I begged him through my tears to speak up for me. He only looked at me coldly. "Nora, you need to learn to look at your own behavior. If you hadn't taken dirty money, why would anyone single you out?"

That hurt more deeply than any insult could have.

Fiona seized the moment, squeezed between Gavin and me, and leaned against his arm. "Gavin, let it go. Nora means well. She just hasn't seen much of the world."

Then she turned around excitedly to address everyone.

"Come look, I just found an incredible deal! It's a three-star hotel. Apparently they hired their head chef away from a Michelin-starred restaurant."

She held her phone up high, a digital menu on the screen.

Seared foie gras with black truffle sauce, lobster thermidor, slow-braised wagyu, black tiger prawn tartare.

Plus a soufflé for dessert.

Fiona wore a smug smile. "I already asked. They're offering a grand-opening special: buy five, get one free! If we all order, it'll cost only three dollars each!"

Colleagues crowded in to look.

Even Megan Carter, the coworker who had spoken up for my family, widened her eyes and murmured, "Three dollars for lobster and foie gras... you really can't compete with that."

I stopped looking at the glossy pictures on the screen and walked away.

What they didn't know was that the hotel kitchen cleaned their dishware with industrial pesticide.

Several customers were rushed to intensive care with vomiting and severe diarrhea, and one elderly man never woke up.

In my last life, I lost my life for that company.

This time, anyone who wanted to stage that farce could do it without me.

I went to the break room, where my phone buzzed twice.

It was a message from Theo Bennett, a friend from university, inviting me to come start a company with him in another city.

"Nora, the project we're developing has real prospects. Come over and I'll double your salary, plus twenty percent founder's equity. What do you say?"

I barely hesitated before replying, "Yes. I'm in."