Chapter 5: Payback and Empty Promises

Tony almost fainted from anger. “Why should we buy them? We’re not eating!” Tony’s hands balled into fists, knuckles white.

Mike argued, full of confidence:

“Because I already prepared the food, and that all costs money.” He folded his arms, chin jutting forward, stubborn as ever.

I frowned. “Mike, aren’t you being unreasonable? Like you said, we didn’t sign a contract, and you said you don’t want our business. How can you force us to buy?”

“I said I won’t do your business starting tomorrow. Today I’ve already prepped the food, and you didn’t give me notice. What am I supposed to do with all these leftover lunches?”

He was determined to be unreasonable.

I nodded helplessly. “Fine, how many are left?” I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

Tony was anxious. “Foreman Derek, you can’t let him get away with this. He’s clearly taking advantage of us!” Tony looked ready to explode, but I shot him a warning look. Sometimes, you have to eat the loss to keep the peace.

Tony was right.

In these three years, Mike made a fortune. He’s not the same Mike who used to worry over a few bucks and speak timidly to everyone.

Now he’s got a new house and even bought a car. The truck parked out front was less rust than chrome these days.

He and his wife have both gained more than twenty pounds, and their voices are louder than ever. Money changes people, sometimes in the worst ways.

Now that no one bullies him, he’s started bullying others.

I waved at Tony, signaling him not to say more. I just wanted to get this over with and get out.

Mike counted the lunches, grinning triumphantly.

Because some guys had already eaten today, he had sixty-two left.

At $4.50 each, I immediately sent him $279 on Venmo. My phone buzzed with the confirmation, and I felt like I’d just paid a ransom.

Mike’s wife said to forget the change. She looked at me with something like shame in her eyes.

Mike insisted, “Why forget it? In these three years, the hot sauce they ate is worth more than $4.50. I absolutely won’t let him off the change.”

“People like them need to be taught a lesson, so they’ll stop thinking about taking advantage. What we’re doing is a good deed.” He said it loud enough for the whole deli to hear, as if he were the hero in this story.

Seeing his shameless face, I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I took the lunches and left with a few of the guys. Outside, the cold wind felt better than staying in there one more second.

At this moment, more than a dozen students from the dance academy came over. Their hair was pulled back tight, gym bags slung over one shoulder, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum.

They were class reps, coming to pick up lunches, each carrying ten or so. They lined up quietly, barely glancing at us as we left.

Mike greeted them with a smile, and in no time, he sold more than four hundred. His voice was cheerful, full of energy, not a trace of the anger he’d shown us.

Seeing the lunches almost gone, Mike took out his phone and filmed a video.

He grinned into his phone, hashtagging #SoldOut before waving the empty tray like he’d just won the lottery. I wondered how many people would see through the act.