At the five-star hotel where the blind date was set, leftover takeout was complimentary.

I liked their Australian lobster and Poule de Bresse en Vessie. I packed my own portion and even helped box up what my date hadn't finished.

Just as I picked up the bags to leave, he grabbed me with a dark look and demanded, "Jennifer, we agreed to split the bill. What gives you the right to take all the food?"

I explained that he wouldn't be able to finish it anyway, and if we didn't take it, it would just be thrown away.

He let out a cold laugh.

"I paid for that food. Even if I toss it, that's none of your concern. Looks to me like you've been waiting for a chance to take advantage. I didn't expect you to be this kind of person.

"I'd rather feed these leftovers to a dog than give them to you! And don't bother contacting me again. That petty, small-minded behavior of yours is disgusting."

I pressed my lips together, at a complete loss for words.

After all… this five-star hotel belonged to my family.

After his tirade, Mike McSally grabbed the bag of leftovers and walked off without a backward glance.

The lobby manager approached with a frown.

"Miss, what's going on with that man? Should I have security stop him?"

I watched his retreating figure and waved it off.

"Forget it. Let him go. Don't let him ruin the other guests' experience."

On the drive home, my phone buzzed nonstop.

When I opened it, every message was from Mike.

Mike: [Dinner tonight came to 1,800. We're splitting it—transfer me 900.]

Mike: [Also, the fruit platter and the two small side dishes the waiter brought… they were complimentary, but I got them by pulling some strings. Cash value is fifty. You should cover half of that too.]

Mike: [Total: 925 dollars. Transfer it.]

Reading those messages, I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

That fruit platter had clearly been sent over by the manager after catching my cue—yet in his version, it became something he'd "earned" with charm?

I transferred 1,000 directly, adding a note: [No need for change. Consider the rest a donation for feeding dogs.]

He accepted the money instantly. The next second, a notification popped up. He'd blocked me.

Before I could even put my phone down, a screenshot from my best friend came through.

It was Mike's social media post. The attached photo was a candid shot of my back as I carried the takeout bags—clearly taken without my knowledge.

The caption read: [Met a real piece of work on a blind date! Orders the most expensive dishes, then packs up everything she can't finish! We agreed to split the bill, but she even tried to take my leftovers!

[Seriously, what's wrong with girls these days? Are they that desperate? Frugality is a virtue, sure—but using it as an excuse to take advantage of men? That's just shameless. Guys, be careful when you go on blind dates. Run into a gold digger like this, and you're asking for trouble!]

The comments section was full of his friends chiming in.

[Man, Mike, you've got it rough. That wasn't a date—you were doing charity work.]

[You can tell at a glance she's never seen the world.]

[Probably never eaten at a five-star hotel in her life—wanted to pack it up and brag later!]

[People like this should be exposed! Make sure she can't show her face in the dating scene again!]

I was still scrolling through the comments when my Aunt Marian called.

The moment I picked up, she launched into a lecture.

"Jennifer, what on earth happened? Mike's mother just called me—she said you're the worst! She said you have no manners, that you eat like you've been starving your whole life, and that you're someone who likes taking advantage of others!

"I introduced Mike to you because he works at a major company—he's a promising prospect. But look at what you've done! You've completely offended him over a few boxes of leftovers!"

"You're not short on food at home. Is this really necessary?" Aunt Marian scolded.

I took a deep breath, forcing down my anger.

"Aunt Marian, Mike insisted on splitting the bill. He even said he'd rather throw the leftovers away than let me take them. I just didn't want to waste—"

"Alright, that's enough!" She cut me off sharply. "Men care about their pride! Packing food right in front of him—wasn't that basically slapping him in the face, saying he couldn't afford to treat you? Mike's mother said it herself—women should be sensible, reserved. With behavior like yours, how are you ever going to marry into the McSally family?"

I let out a cold laugh.

Marry into the McSally family? Even if they begged me, I wouldn't be interested.

"Aunt Marian, if he's so outstanding, then save him for a woman who's more 'sensible,'" I said coolly.

"I'm not worthy of such a match."

With that, I hung up, thinking the matter was finally over. I didn't expect fate to circle back so quickly.

…

The next day, I went to inspect operations at our hotel.

I had just reached the entrance of the buffet when a loud commotion caught my attention.

"Don't hold back, everyone! Tonight's team dinner is on me. I know the manager here—got us an internal discount. Eat as much as you want!"

I would recognize that voice even if it turned to ash. Turning my head, I saw Mike standing in the center of a crowd, flushed with excitement, bragging animatedly.

The group around him looked like colleagues from his new job.

Coincidentally, the company—Helios Technology—was one of the tenants leasing office space in our hotel building.

I had no interest in engaging with him. Lowering the brim of my hat, I tried to slip past unnoticed.

"Well, well—if it isn't Jennifer?"

Mike's sharp eyes locked onto me instantly. His booming voice drew everyone's attention.

"What's this? Didn't get your fill last night, so you came back to loiter and scrounge another free meal?"

He strode over in a few quick steps, looking me up and down in my casual clothes, his eyes dripping with disdain.

"Jennifer, you're really something. Just to sneak into a five-star hotel, you'd stoop this low?"

He turned to his colleagues and announced loudly, "Let me introduce you all—this is the 'top-tier' blind date I posted about last night! Her family's dirt poor. On our date, she practically licked every plate clean and even tried to pack everything to go! After I called her out, she shamelessly refused to leave!"

Laughter erupted from the crowd. Their gazes pierced me like needles.

"Oh my God, she looks decent enough. How can she be so shameless?"

"Seriously, chasing men to this extent… unbelievable."

"I've seen plenty like her—just fishing here for a rich husband, right?"

I frowned, staring at Mike coldly.

"Watch your mouth. I'm here on business."

"On business?" Mike let out an exaggerated scoff. "What kind of business? Begging?"

He casually grabbed two dry, hardened buns from a nearby serving cart and tossed them into my arms as if feeding a stray dog.

"There, there—since we did go on a date, I'll toss you a bone. Take these and chew on them. Stop embarrassing yourself here and get lost."

The buns fell to the floor, rolling twice and picking up dust.

I looked down at them—and then laughed, my anger reaching its peak.

'Very well. If you're so determined to court disaster, don't blame me for what comes next,' I fumed inwardly.

I was just about to call for security when Mike suddenly spotted several senior executives approaching from a distance. His expression flipped instantly as he hurried over, all smiles and obsequious charm.

"Ah! Mr. Vance! What a coincidence!"

It was Edgar Vance, manager of the hotel's Food and Beverage Department.

Mike turned to his colleagues, puffing himself up. "See that? That's one of the hotel's top executives! We go way back—tight as brothers! With just a word from me, getting fifty percent off tonight's bill is nothing!"

A chorus of admiration rippled through the group as his coworkers praised his connections and clout.

Basked in their flattery, Mike practically floated, completely missing the way Edgar looked at him—as if he were unhinged.

Edgar was just about to lose his temper when his gaze swept over to me.

I lifted a hand slightly, signaling stay calm, then pointed at Mike… and tapped my temple.

A seasoned professional, Edgar understood instantly.

He swallowed whatever reprimand he'd been about to deliver and replaced it with a polished, professional smile. "Since you insist, we'll make sure everyone enjoys themselves tonight."

Hearing that, Mike grew even more smug, his nose practically pointing at the ceiling.

"Did you hear that? That's influence! That's status!"

He shot me a provocative glance. "Jennifer, see the gap between us? Someone like you will spend your whole life eating other people's leftovers!"

Mike truly believed he'd secured a golden pass. The moment he stepped into the private room, he completely let himself go.

"Waiter! Bring out everything expensive on the menu—Australian lobster, foie gras, bouillabaisse, black truffles—serve them all!

"As for drinks? Beer? Are you kidding? We've got female colleagues here tonight. Open two bottles of '82 Lafite! And that Macallan M Black Decanter—bring us two, just to rinse our mouths!"

The server hesitated, instinctively glancing toward me, who was standing quietly by the door.

Leaning against the frame, I gave a blank nod.

If he dared to order, we would dare to serve it. After all, I wouldn't be the one paying.

Round after round of drinks, course after course of dishes. Mike's face flushed deep red as he drank himself into a haze. His tie hung crooked, one foot planted on a chair as he grandly held court.

"I'm telling you—what matters in life is vision! Take Jennifer, for example. Tsk, tsk—textbook low-class mindset! For a few scraps of meat, she threw away all dignity! Unlike how my mother raised me! When a man spends money, he does it with style!"

A female colleague beside him chimed in flatteringly, "Exactly, Mike! How could a woman like that ever be worthy of you? She's not even fit to carry your shoes!"

Mike burst into laughter. "Carry my shoes? She'd have to get in line first!

"If it weren't for the fact that she's somewhat good-looking, I might've had a little fun. Who knew she was a brainless pauper? Good thing I got out fast—otherwise, once someone like that sticks to you, you can't shake her off!"

Standing in the shadows, I listened as they twisted the story with every venomous word they could muster.

In their telling, I'd become a desperate, scheming woman willing to do anything to marry into wealth—even stalking an ex.

My fists clenched. But I held back. The higher they lifted him now, the harder he would fall later.

At last, it was time to settle the bill.

A server walked in, holding a long receipt, and said with a polite smile, "Sir, your total comes to 188,800 dollars."

The private room fell silent.

The once-rowdy crowd now looked like ducks with their throats clamped shut.

Half of Mike's drunkenness evaporated on the spot. His eyes bulged, as if they might pop right out of their sockets.