Five Bucks for a Million-Dollar Lunch

I'm the type who has a ton of allergies. That's why my family has specifically hired a nutritionist to help prepare and monitor my meals while paying her a salary of 7,500 dollars per month.

During my lunch break, the new intern, Julia Hall, suddenly tells me, "Emma, the food that you bring to work looks very healthy! You can prepare another portion for me from now on!

"It so happens that I'm on a diet as well. Think of it as me going down the journey of dieting with you. I'll pay you five dollars per meal. You can earn quite a lot of money from this side gig, you know?"

I'm flabbergasted when I hear Julia's words.

The ingredients meant for my meals are specifically flown in using private jets. Not to mention, my family pays the nutritionist a lucrative salary. Five dollars can't even cover the transportation fees needed for my meals!

I shake my head and turn Julia down on the spot. I refuse to give her a chance to use any plot holes against me.

But the next day at noon, I've just left my desk to refill my water bottle. When I return, I realize that Julia has already taken my lunchbox away and has shared the food with the other colleagues while chatting animatedly with them.

My lips curl into a cold smirk.

Since Julia insists on taking advantage of me, then I might as well teach her a lesson she will never forget.

It was often said that young people nowadays were blunt and lacked propriety in their speech and actions, but in all my years of working, it was the first time I ever encountered an intern who took things that far.

Upon noticing my silence, Julia Hall, the intern, pursed her lips and said, "You can't just give me the silent treatment, Emma. I'm not looking for a free meal—I'm paying. I know five dollars isn't a lot, but I'm trying to lose weight, so I won't be eating much anyway.

"I mean, considering how you're an orphan and how I'm not picky about food, you can just make a little extra when you cook. It's a great way for you to make some extra cash on the side."

I found it hard to believe that she actually thought she was doing me a favor by letting me pack her lunch. I nearly laugh out of sheer frustration.

Mom and Dad were doing perfectly fine, enjoying their retirement at home.

Yet, according to Julia, I was suddenly an orphan with no family. I deliberately kept a low profile and didn't talk about my personal life, but I didn't think I had given anyone a reason to look down on me like that.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and didn't even bother smiling. "I'm sorry, but I have too much work on my plate to do that for you. In addition, you're offering way too little—it doesn't even come close to covering the cost."

I spoke very bluntly. I was just worried she might be shameless enough to look for any loophole to exploit, regardless.

Julia reacted as if she'd been deeply offended, clenching her fists and stomping her feet. "How could you talk to me like that, Emma? I actually thought you were a nice person, which is why I tried to help you out in the first place! I'm just an intern, so I barely make anything a month!

"If you're going to turn it down, fine, but you didn't have to be so harsh. In addition, looking at your diet, it's mostly vegetables and barely any meat. How expensive could it possibly be?

"You're almost 30 years old. Even if you didn't know how to budget, you shouldn't be ripping people off. It's no wonder you're still single, Emma!"

I grew furious after hearing her sudden outburst. I had a naturally sensitive constitution, and eating out for me was like taking a risky gamble with my health, so I always brought my own food. Mom and Dad had even hired a nutritionist with a monthly salary of 7,500 dollars just to manage my health.

In addition, the ingredients used in my meals were shipped directly from their place of origin every day. Just the fuel cost alone for the private jet's round trip amounted to over 1,500 dollars. That wasn't even counting the specially sourced seasonal vegetables and fresh meat.

That five dollars she offered didn't even cover a fraction of the cost, yet she talked as if she were being incredibly generous. She then played the victim and tried to age-shame me just because she couldn't take advantage of me.

I bolted to my feet and stared straight into her eyes. I was just about to tear into her on the spot when Karl Ziegler, my colleague, quickly stepped in to hold me back.