She Ate My Lunch for Free Every Day—Until Six Tins of Luxury Caviar Arrived Chapter 02

I stayed behind after the next morning’s team meeting.

I placed my phone in front of Kelsey.

“The cake was $18, and yesterday’s lunch was $14. Those are the two you admitted taking. Pay me back for them first.”

She looked at the screen, then at Derek. Her eyes immediately filled with tears.

“Maya, I know you’re still mad.”

“I asked whether you were going to repay me.”

“But the way you’re talking to me is really scary.”

Her voice grew smaller, and her shoulders drew inward as though I were threatening her instead of holding a phone.

Derek lifted his travel mug and tapped it against the table.

“We’re all adults. Don’t bring personal drama into the office.”

I pulled up the picture of the empty container.

“This is a fact, not drama.”

He did not even look at the photo. He lowered his eyes to his phone, and a $10 payment notification appeared on mine.

“I’ll buy you breakfast. Are we done now?”

“No.”

Kelsey’s tears splashed onto the table.

“My family barely had enough food when I was growing up. Sometimes I can’t control myself when I see something good. That doesn’t make me a bad person. You’re an amazing cook. Would making a little extra really hurt you?”

Linda, who sat nearby, sighed.

“Let it go. Kelsey is immature, that’s all.”

I returned Derek’s $10.

“She’s twenty-six. I’m twenty-seven. Does one year make me responsible for feeding her?”

Kelsey’s head snapped up, and her voice suddenly sharpened.

“I never asked you to feed me. Fine, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

“Pay back what you took.”

She grabbed her phone and opened a delivery app. After swiping twice, she held it up for Derek to see.

“One drink is almost twenty bucks after fees and tip. She’s making me spend all that money over a few bites.”

Derek frowned. “Maya, enough.”

I stared at them, struck by how absurd it was.

Before then, I had only taken quick pictures of the missing food, always thinking I would remind her again next time.

The night before, I realized my camera roll was full of empty containers.

Milk, shrimp, cherries, the pudding I had saved for my birthday, and sandwiches I had bought during late-night projects.

Every photo was followed by another promise that she would remember next time.

I had never calculated how much she had taken.

Yet she was already calculating whether replacing it with a coffee would cost her too much.

That day, I emailed a formal complaint to Renee Parker in HR department and attached the messages in which Kelsey admitted taking my food.

Renee called me back and said she would meet with both of us.

The camera covering the break room entrance had recently been repaired, so older incidents might be impossible to verify. She would preserve the messages, though.

Half an hour later, Derek called me into his office.

“Did you think about how going over my head would make the department look?”

“Have you ever handled the problem when I brought it to you?”

His expression darkened. He wrote several words in his notebook.

I caught the phrase “poor team player.”

As I left, Kelsey spoke quietly enough that only I could hear.

“Is ruining your performance review really worth it over a few bites of food?”

I did not go out for lunch. Instead, I stayed at my computer to finish the afternoon presentation.

My lunch was inside a canvas bag tied tightly shut and wedged onto the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.

I had placed a note on top.

[MAYA CARTER. I NEED THIS BEFORE AN OFF-SITE MEETING. DO NOT TAKE.]

At two thirty, I carried the bag out.

It felt too light.

Only the mashed potatoes were left. The fried chicken was gone, and so were the bones.

My note had been crumpled and shoved underneath it.

I stood in the doorway. Kelsey was wiping the last trace of sauce from her fingers. When she saw me, she gave me a slow, smug smile.

“Maya, what are you upset about now?”