Chapter 3

The Friday evening subway was packed. I squeezed into a quiet corner and absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram.

Megan had already posted a picture of an empty table on her Story: *Celebration banquet starting soon! $888 seafood feast—jealous yet?*

I tapped to enlarge the photo.

The silverware was misaligned, the tablecloth had noticeable yellow stains, and the napkins were the thinnest, cheapest paper available.

In the background, a drinks station displayed several dusty bottles of generic wine without recognizable labels.

Her post already had a dozen comments from our coworkers.

"Piper is a genius!"

"Unbeatable value!"

"Can’t wait for the lobster!"

I closed the app without liking or commenting.

Once home, I showered, dried my hair, and was about to order food on UberEats when my phone buzzed frantically.

It wasn't a call; the team Slack channel was blowing up.

Megan had posted a short clip showing the whole venue.

In reality, the place looked ten times worse than in the photo. The plastic chairs wobbled, the ceiling AC vent was actively dripping onto the tiled floor, and a huge puddle had formed in the walkway.

"We’re here! A bit out of the way, but hey, you can’t beat the price," Megan’s voice sounded noticeably forced in the video.

Then Piper's voice chimed in: "Take a seat, everyone! I already confirmed with the owner—all the seafood arrived today, guaranteed fresh!"

Someone shouted, "Where's the lobster? Bring out the lobster first!"

"Coming right up!" Piper replied.

A second later, she dropped another message: *Oh, by the way, drinks aren't included in the package. Order whatever you like, and we’ll expense it within the company allowance.*

The chat fell silent for a few beats.

Megan tried to smooth things over: *No big deal, we won't drink that much anyway.*

Then, another coworker posted a photo of the drink menu. Down at the bottom was a line of fine print: *Corkage fee: $50 per table.*

"Wait, what is this corkage fee?" someone asked, irritation creeping into their text.

Piper rushed to explain: *I talked to the manager. He said if we don't bring outside alcohol, there's no corkage fee. Let's just order from the restaurant—it’s super cheap!*

I watched the screen, feeling the corners of my lips curl upward.

Right on cue, another coworker exploded in the chat: *$10 for a domestic beer?! They’re two bucks at the grocery store!*

Piper went silent.

A few minutes later, Megan suddenly tagged me directly: *@Chloe, must feel pretty lonely eating takeout at home while we feast, huh? Bet you regret skipping out!*

Followed by a row of laughing emojis.

I didn’t bother replying.

I had barely put my phone down when it started ringing.

Jenny's name flashed on the screen.

I picked up.

"Hey. What's up?"

The background was loud and chaotic. Jenny kept her voice down: "Chloe... are you free to talk right now?"

"Yeah. What’s going on?"

"The... banquet kind of went south."