Chapter 6

I rejected six out of the next ten dishes. Every single one turned out to have flaws after the kitchen staff re-examined them.

Jane's demeanor shifted from condescension to embarrassment.

The head chef wiped sweat off his brow three separate times.

Nathan could no longer force a smile.

I took only one sip of the final soup.

"This one works," I said.

The head chef let out a breath of relief.

Then I added, "But this soup isn't a newly-developed dish. Lewis' Table on North River Street has served this soup for ten years."

Nathan's face fell completely.

The chef in charge of new recipes stood up. "You're slandering me."

"Was your mentor's last name Lewis?" I asked.

The chef's mouth fell open.

Nathan fixed him with a hard stare. "Speak."

The man hung his head. "I trained at Lewis' Table for half a year."

Dead silence filled the conference room.

Charlotte looked at me with unreadable eyes.

Nathan suddenly started clapping. "Impressive work, Mr. Sinclair. No wonder Charlotte can't do without you."

His words sounded like praise, yet his next line soured the tone entirely. "Still, a cook is only ever a cook."

He stood and addressed everyone in the room. "That concludes the menu review. I will restructure the company's workflows moving forward. We can't let the boss's family member have the final say over everything."

Jane chimed in right away. "You're absolutely right, Mr. Goodwin."

The head chef hurried to nod in agreement as well.

Charlotte offered no pushback.

I set my fork down. "I'll head home then."

Nathan smiled. "Thank you for your trouble. The driver will take you back."

"No need," I said.

I had barely reached the door when the procurement manager suddenly called out, "Mr. Sinclair, you handled the samples a moment ago, didn't you?"

I turned around.

He held up his phone. "The warehouse just reported that today's receiving slip for the shrimp shipment is missing."

Jane's eyes snapped toward me. "That can't be a coincidence, can it?"

Nathan frowned. "What are you implying?"

The procurement manager gritted his teeth. "Mr. Sinclair was the only one going through the documents on the table earlier."

I glanced at the table. "I didn't touch any of them."

"Security camera footage will tell us the truth," Jane said.

Charlotte stood up. "Pull it up."

Ten minutes later, the conference-room screen lit up.

The footage showed me indeed touching a stack of papers near the table's edge.

"That's him," the procurement manager said at once.

Emily burst into the building just in time to hear those words.

She kicked the conference-room door wide open. "That's nonsense!"

Emily stormed inside, with Linda right behind her.

Linda carried her rolling pin. Security guards chased after them, yet none dared to step in her way.

"Who is accusing Andrew of stealing?" she boomed.

The procurement manager turned pale. "Mrs. Summers, we are only going by what the surveillance shows."

Linda swung the rolling pin and slammed it hard against the tabletop. "Does your lousy security footage talk?"

Emily hurried over to my side. "Andrew, are you alright?"

I shook my head.

Nathan stepped forward. "Mrs. Summers, Emily, this is a corporate office, not your home."

She pointed a finger at him. "You stay quiet. Ever since you showed up, this place has been turned upside-down. If you ask me, you are the one who ought to be investigated."

Nathan's expression soured. "I just started. I haven't set foot inside the warehouse."

Jane murmured, "Mr. Goodwin was with us the entire time."

Emily shot her a sharp glare. "What exactly is your connection to him? You were with him the entire time?"

Jane's face flushed red.

Charlotte said in a low, stern voice, "Emily, watch your tone for the setting."

Emily let out a bitter laugh. "Setting? Where was your concern for your husband when these people were framing Andrew?"

Charlotte looked at me. "Andrew, I never said you stole the receiving slip."

"But you also never said I didn't," I replied.

Charlotte fell short of a reply.

Nathan sighed. "Mr. Sinclair, this is no time to be resentful. The missing slip hurts the whole company. If you picked it up by mistake, hand it over."

Linda roared, "Don't you dare spout such garbage."

Sweat beaded on the procurement manager's forehead from panic. "The camera clearly captured him touching those papers."

I asked, "What does the receiving slip look like?"

The procurement manager froze. "It's yellow paper, two-part duplicate form."

"The stack on the table was plain white paper," I said.

He didn't know how to reply.

Emily latched onto that point at once. "Right! Andrew only touched white paper in the footage. Can a receiving slip change its color or something?"

Jane cut in quickly. "Well, the slip could have been tucked inside those white sheets."

I turned toward her. "Earlier you claimed I was going through the documents the whole time. Now you say it might be tucked in. Did you actually see it or not?"

Jane was left lost for words.

"Enough arguing. Check his bag," Nathan ordered.

Emily flew into a rage. "What gives you the right to search Andrew's bag?"

Nathan looked over at Charlotte. "Charlotte, we can't bend company policy."

After several seconds of silence, Charlotte said, "Andrew, please cooperate."

Linda held her rolling pin straight out across in front of her. "Over my dead body."

Charlotte lowered her voice. "Mom, I need to give the company an explanation."

Linda laughed bitterly out of anger. "Is humiliating your husband in front of everyone how you give the company an explanation?"

I set the cloth bag I carried down on the table. "Go ahead and check."

Emily tugged at my arm in alarm. "Andrew, don't let them. If you let them search your bag today, tomorrow they'll accuse you of stealing money, and the day after that they'll claim you hurt someone."

I patted the back of her hand. "It's fine."

Nathan opened my cloth bag himself. Inside were only my keys, loose change for groceries, a cookbook, and a small well-worn paring knife.

No receiving slip.

The procurement manager's face turned paler.

Nathan laid out my belongings one by one.

When he picked up the cookbook, he flipped through a couple of pages. "Mr. Sinclair, you keep notes in here?"

I held out my hand. "Give it back."

Nathan didn't hand it over right away. His brows twitched as he spotted one page. "This handwriting looks familiar."

Charlotte spoke sharply all of a sudden. "Give that back to him."

Nathan turned his eyes on her.

"Why are you so tense?" he asked.

Charlotte reached over, snatched the cookbook away, and passed it to me.

"That's enough," she said.