Chapter 4 - The Bill
Odette’s hand trembled around the receipt.
“This is outrageous.”
“You asked for fresh bread.”
“You were supposed to bake it.”
“Why would I endanger Kellan’s digestion with beginner bread?”
Tate made a small choking sound behind his coffee.
Kellan looked at him.
Tate coughed. “Sorry. Excellent brioche.”
Odette turned to her stepson. “Kellan, are you going to allow this?”
He looked at the table again. He had the exhausted expression of a man who had slept four hours because someone in Singapore had changed three clauses and an entire legal team panicked.
Then he took another bite of oatmeal.
His shoulders eased.
“Yes,” he said.
Odette froze.
“Yes?”
“Yes. My health matters more than performance. You requested breakfast. Romy solved breakfast. Pay the bill.”
The room went silent.
I added jam to my toast with the dignity of a person not paying three thousand dollars.
Odette’s face flushed.
“This family has standards.”
“So does the hotel,” I said. “That is why the food is excellent.”
She rose so quickly her chair scraped the floor.
“This is not over.”
I did not answer because arguing with angry wealthy women burns calories.
After she left, Tate finally laughed into his napkin.
Kellan watched me with narrowed eyes.
“You knew she was trying to humiliate you.”
“Yes.”
“And your answer was to hire six chefs?”
“Efficiency is simply laziness with vendors.”
His mouth twitched.
“Most people would have fought her.”
“Most people overestimate the dignity of struggle.”
Tate looked at Kellan. “I like her.”
Kellan ignored him, but he was still looking at me.
That was unfortunate.
May you like
I had planned to spend one year being forgettable.
Odette had accidentally made me interesting.
