Chapter 2

Like hell I was making him a feast. He could keep dreaming.

I lifted my phone, snapped a picture of the hand-cut prime beef going for forty-five dollars a pound behind the counter, and sent it over.

"Derek, I'm picking out the beef now. This cut look okay to you?"

Derek fired back instantly and started directing me through the screen.

"Whoa, that piece's way too fatty.

"Nobody wants anything that rich these days. Get the leaner cut. It looks dry, but it's got more chew to it.

"And since you're buying beef, add a pepper steak tomorrow. Heavy on the onions. That's my favorite.

"One more thing. Get him to knock off the change. Don't just stand there paying sticker price like an idiot."

I let out a snort and nearly rolled my eyes out of my head.

That beef was for the steak I was planning to sear at home for myself. Pepper steak, heavy on the onions?

That depended entirely on how hard the meal-pouch factory had gone with the additives.

"Yep, sounds good, Derek. It's a nice cut. I like it too."

I fired off the empty answer, powered the phone down, and dropped it in my bag.

I paid, went home, cracked a cold beer, seared that beef rare, and watched the game in total comfort.

Meanwhile, over in the company chat, Derek was still selling the dream.

"Dylan's putting in real work prepping tomorrow's dinner. You're all going to eat well, so make sure you thank him for it."

My coworkers flooded the chat with thanks and praise for my sacrifice.

I looked at the pile of messages and switched on Do Not Disturb.

A whole crowd of people who swung whichever way the wind blew.

Let them get their hopes up. It only made the surprise land harder.

The next morning Derek came in with his travel mug and made straight for my desk.

"So? How'd last night go? Everything ready?"

His eyes drifted to the empty space under my desk, like he was wondering where the groceries were.

"If you're running behind, I'll have Tyler and the others wash vegetables over lunch. It's a group thing, everybody should pitch in."

The faces of the people around us changed instantly.

Tyler Brennan in particular looked sick.

Everybody knew it was miserable work and nobody wanted anywhere near it.

But nobody dared say a word to the manager.

I stayed perfectly relaxed and kept working without looking up.

"Don't worry, Derek. I took your advice and didn't touch company time. I got it all done overnight. Nobody needs to help.

"I've got a delivery coming straight to the office. Everyone just needs to show up hungry."

Derek broke into a grin, especially pleased by the part about not touching company time.

Right then the receptionist called across the floor, "Dylan Woodward, your delivery's here."

Several enormous white foam coolers had been stacked by the front desk.

Derek's eyes lit up at the sight of them.

"Look at you, Dylan. You even sprang for insulated coolers. Those couldn't have been cheap.

"What's in there, the crab or the braised pork?"

He circled the coolers twice and reached for a lid.

"Let me see what you made."

Every one of them was packed with the meal pouches I'd ordered.

I got there first, clamped a hand down on the lid, and lowered my voice like I was sharing a secret.

"Derek, these are all hot dishes. A buddy of mine kept them warm the whole way over. If we open them now the heat escapes and they won't taste right.

"Plus the smell's strong enough to get into your clothes, and it'll bother everyone trying to work.

"Go relax in your office. Once I've got it all set up you can come eat and say a few words to the department."

Derek looked down at his mirror-polished shoes and thought that over.

"Fine, you handle it... Actually, hold on."

He caught me by the arm and dropped his voice next to my ear.

"If you could afford coolers, you didn't spend the whole three hundred, did you?"