Inside the private room.
A man and a woman sat on the sofa.
“Here, darling, let me top you off.” Marjorie knelt on the floor with a beer, her hand resting on the man’s leg, her posture full of coquettish charm.
The man smiled, giving his tacit approval.
He glanced at the closed door, then took a small sip from his glass. He smiled at the woman kneeling beside him and said, “I can’t drink too much. I’m in a bad mood today. If you can cheer me up, this hundred-dollar tip is yours.”
Marjorie rolled her eyes internally.
What a fucking cheapskate. A hundred bucks? Seriously?
The minimum spend to get a room here was in the thousands.
And from the way he talked, you’d think a hundred dollars was a fortune!
It really takes all sorts. If it weren't for her plan, she wouldn't waste her time waiting on this loser.
A flash of disgust crossed Marjorie’s eyes, but her expression remained perfectly pleasant. “What’s wrong, handsome? Why don’t you tell me all about it? Maybe I can make you feel better.” As she spoke, her hand slowly crept up his thigh.
Her comforting words immediately lifted a good part of his foul mood.
The man’s name was Winnie York, a chef at The Tasting Room.
He had been incredibly frustrated lately. The Tasting Room was preparing to open a second location, and the owner was going to choose one of the current chefs to be the new head chef.
He wanted the position badly and had even expressed his interest to the owner.
Of course, he knew several others also wanted the job, but he felt his culinary skills were superior to the rest.
He had been certain the owner would choose him.
But then, just two days ago, the owner had suddenly announced that another chef, Darwin, would be the new head chef.
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