She looked us over, arms crossed. “Rachel, these are the ones causing trouble?”
Rachel rushed to her side like a lackey:
“That’s right, Ms. Johnson. This woman’s kid stole something and refuses to admit it. She insists we check the cameras.”
Clara scoffed:
“Unbelievable. Riffraff like this think they can eat here? Looks like charging $3,800 a head is still too cheap.”
Three thousand eight hundred?
When I opened this chain, I set a uniform price of $980 per person.
She had secretly raised the price without reporting it.
I couldn’t help demanding:
“Other cities charge $980. Why are you charging more than three thousand here?”
Clara smirked like she’d heard a joke:
“Hick. If you can’t afford it, don’t come. You think New York is like other cities?”
Rachel chimed in:
“Mr. Shaw already gave this restaurant to Ms. Johnson. She can charge whatever she wants. None of your damn business.”
So that’s why the Ocean Palace Buffet in New York always showed losses—Edward had secretly handed it over to her.
I let out a bitter laugh.
“I heard Edward Shaw is already married with kids. So you’re saying you’re his wife?”
Clara’s face stiffened, but she forced her chin up: