Chapter 3 Signing Off on Three Million
765 Words
The first dish arrived quickly. It was bluefin tuna otoro, its pale pink flesh threaded with delicate ribbons of fat and arranged on a platter veiled in drifting dry ice. It looked less like food than a piece of edible art.
Sterling picked up a slice of otoro, skipped the soy sauce, and shoved it straight into his mouth.
"Meh. It's basically tasteless. It's not even as good as the five-dollar pastry stand outside."
For all his complaints, his fork never stopped. In less than a minute, he had cleared the entire plate.
Next came the Mareval oysters, Imperial Moon caviar, and Southern Crest M9 Wagyu. Every new dish sent the table into another frenzy. They were not there to appreciate the food. They were there to stuff themselves until they felt they had gotten every last cent's worth of their thirty dollars.
Holden Warren piled a spoonful of caviar onto a brioche roll and took a huge bite.
"These black fish eggs are kind of salty, Rowan. Do you just dump salt on everything because it's free?"
I took a slow sip of lemon water.
"That's the taste of the sea."
Then I gave him a faint smile.
"Eat more. You could use the brain food."
Holden did not catch the jab at all. Instead, he nodded with a perfectly serious expression.
"Guess I'd better eat more, then."
Genevra poked at the white truffle with her fork, her brows pulling together in disgust.
"What kind of mushroom is this? It smells like gas."
She pushed the plate away and looked at me accusingly.
"Rowan, are you feeding us spoiled ingredients on purpose? I'm pregnant, you know. If this gives me food poisoning, can you afford the lawsuit?"
I looked at her coldly.
"It's Ivory Vale white truffle. Several hundred dollars a gram. If you think it's rotten, you're welcome to spit it out."
Genevra froze, and her face flushed red.
"Several hundred dollars a gram? Please. As if a dump like this could afford ingredients that expensive."
Then she leaned into Sterling and whined, "Honey, look at her. She's picking on me."
Sterling immediately jumped to Genevra's defense and slammed his hand on the table.
"Rowan, how dare you talk to Genevra like that? She's carrying my child. Keep giving us that attitude, and I swear I'll leave you a one-star review."
I smiled.
"Be my guest."
By the time the third round of drinks had been poured, the table was a complete disaster.
The pure silver cutlery had been scattered everywhere, and the expensive handwoven rug was stained with wine and grease.
Sterling let out a loud burp, picked his teeth, and looked over at me.
"Honestly, Rowan, your place is nothing special. The portions are way too small, and we barely got full. But for the sake of our old friendship, I won't make a big deal out of it."
He stood and patted his stomach.
"All right, everyone. We've eaten our fill. Time to go. Same rule as always. Send your thirty dollars in the group chat. Nobody tries to weasel out."
The classmates all pulled out their phones and began sending payments one after another.
"Rowan, the money's already in the group chat. Go ahead and collect it yourself."
"The food was decent today. Let's hold the next reunion here too."
Genevra picked up her limited-edition Hermès bag and deliberately waved it in front of me.
"Rowan, you'll probably never be able to afford a bag like this in your life, will you? That's why a woman has to marry well. Otherwise, she ends up trapped in a kitchen all day, reeking of cooking oil. How pitiful."
The others burst into giggles and started filing toward the exit.
I did not move.
Sophie led ten broad-shouldered security guards forward, and they formed a solid line in front of the entrance.
The front door swung shut behind them with a crisp click that echoed through the hall.
Sterling stopped in his tracks and spun around to glare at me.
"Rowan, what the hell is this supposed to mean? Are you trying to hold us here against our will?"
I stood and smoothed a faint wrinkle from my sleeve.
"Sophie, bring the bill."
Sophie stepped forward with a long receipt in hand and stopped in front of Sterling.
"Sir, your total comes to three million, one hundred seventy-four thousand, five hundred dollars."
She smiled politely.
"We can round that down to three million, one hundred seventy thousand."
Then she held out the receipt.
"Will you be paying by card or bank transfer?"
- Writer
