Cheap Meal, Priceless Revenge

I almost laughed in sheer anger.

Was this the "Star Service Team" I had spent a fortune training? Was this their idea of hospitality?

Now, it was clear that problems at this flagship restaurant ran deeper than I had imagined.

I didn't bother arguing with Colette. Instead, I picked up my phone and texted Stephanie Lloyd, who was rushing to the restaurant.

"Don't come in yet. Wait by the door. I want to see how far this goes."

Ten minutes later, my appetizer finally arrived.

It was a plate of black truffle scallops.

The edges of the scallops were shriveled and dry. It was obvious that they had been plated and left sitting at the serving hatch for ages.

The black truffle on top was pitifully scarce. It was just a tiny flake the size of a fingernail.

I picked up my fork and took a bite. It tasted fishy. This wasn't the fresh, air-freighted catch of the day. Rather, it was the taste of frozen scallops after being thawed.

To mask the fishy smell, the chef had drowned it in black pepper and butter, making it nauseatingly greasy.

I set my fork aside and dabbed my mouth with a napkin.

"Excuse me."

This time, it wasn't Colette who approached me, but a timid young woman still wearing a "Trainee" badge, named Claire Laurent.

"How can I help you, ma'am?"

"These scallops aren't fresh. Get your head chef out here."

Claire jolted and quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry! There might've been an issue with today's delivery. I'll have it replaced right away—"

"No replacing!"

Colette had come back at some point and shoved Claire aside. She stepped in front of me with her arms crossed and shot me a sideways glance.

"These are Pearlysian scallops that were delivered just this morning. How could they possibly not be fresh?

"It sounds like you're just too used to eating cheap grilled scallops at street stalls to appreciate high-end ingredients. If you're trying to pull a scam for a free meal, that little trick won't work here."

Guests at the surrounding tables turned to stare, murmuring and gesturing in our direction.

Colette noticed and raised her voice, making sure everyone could hear her. "Everyone, look! This lady paid 298 dollars for an experience set but expects a 20-thousand-dollar experience.

"This is a fine dining restaurant, not a soup kitchen.

"If you don't have the money, don't come here to play pretend. You can't afford it but still complain about everything. Have you no shame?"

Seated at the next table, a woman in flashy clothes scoffed. "Poor people these days are something else. They're always trying to force their way into places they can't even afford.

"I feel bad for the poor waitress having to deal with such a weirdo. If it were me, I would've long thrown her out. She's completely ruining my appetite."

I stayed seated and looked at the smug smile on Colette's face. She looked like she was enjoying the thrill of grinding my dignity beneath her feet.

"You're Ms. Gill, aren't you?"

I leaned back in my chair and calmly looked at her. "You said these are Pearlysian scallops, right? Pearlysian scallops have creamy-white flesh with fine grains and a naturally sweet finish.

"What's on this plate is yellowish, squishy, and tastes like the inside of a freezer. These are clearly domestic frozen scallops coming from old stock that has been sitting in cold storage for at least three months.

"Do you think I've never eaten good food, or do you just assume all promotional diners are easy to fool?"

Colette's expression shifted. She hadn't expected me to sound so professional, but it didn't take long for her to slip back into her arrogant tone.

"Quit reciting random facts you found online. You think memorizing a few lines makes you a food critic? I say they're Pearlysian imports, so they are. Go ahead and get them lab-tasted if you want to prove otherwise.

"Otherwise, shut up and eat your food. I'll have security throw you out if you keep making a scene!"