Chapter 4You Traded Gourmet Food For Poison

The next day, Garrett's lunch delivery arrived thirty minutes late. The office was practically growling with hunger.

But when they opened the containers, the room went quiet.

The "short ribs" were mostly bare, gristly bone with tiny shreds of meat.

The chicken drumsticks were dry, shriveled, and tiny. Chelsea tried to take a bite of hers, but it was so tough she had to yank it with her teeth and chew endlessly before finally giving up.

The vegetables were a limp, yellowish mush, and the rice was gray and dry, smelling like it had been sitting in a damp cellar for years.

I glanced over from my desk. The food was swimming in a strange, reddish oil that had an unpleasant, chemical sheen.

Someone muttered, "Why do these ribs taste so weird? They're totally bland, and they smell... kind of fishy?"

"This chicken is like leather. I can't even chew it."

"The rice is yellow. Why does it taste bitter?"

Everyone turned their eyes to Garrett.

Garrett was busy stuffing a relatively decent-looking piece of meat into his mouth. "Tastes fine to me," he said, talking around his food. "This is organic, pasture-raised pork. It's not that soft, commercial stuff. It's leaner, which means it’s packed with nutrients."

"And the chicken is free-range. That's why it's firm. It's real muscle, not fat."

"The rice doesn't have that fake shine because it's completely natural and unprocessed. Most commercial rice is coated in synthetic wax to make it look pretty, which is incredibly toxic. Honestly, why do you think some people only eat noodles instead of rice?"

I quietly enjoyed the fresh, homemade wheat noodles my mom had packed for me, ignoring his pathetic attempt at shade.

Chelsea defended me. "Stop taking shots at Tyler. He’s not even in the lunch program anymore. He brought his own food because he likes noodles. It has nothing to do with the rice."

Garrett smirked, looking around as if he’d just won an argument.

"Sure, Chelsea. Or maybe he knows he got caught. The Miramar probably threw in those free noodles as part of his kickback. Otherwise, why is he still getting food from them?"

Courtney looked at Chelsea with a knowing, nasty smile. "Honestly, Chelsea, you keep defending Tyler so hard. Do you have a crush on him or something?"

"Seriously," another coworker chimed in. "Lying just to defend a guy who ripped us off? Have some self-respect. Garrett’s lunch is perfectly fine. It's way cheaper, and we aren't getting scammed."

Chelsea’s face turned bright red with embarrassment and anger.

Frustrated and unable to find the words to argue, she slammed her chopsticks down and walked out of the breakroom.