Jack's face contorted into an indignant scowl.

"Hey! Get me your manager-right now!" he snapped.

He punctuated his demand with a swift kick at the trembling young waiter sprawled on the floor. "I'm done dealing with amateurs!"

The startled rookie flinched, eyes wide with fear.

Before he could stammer out a response, his supervisor swiftly intervened, maintaining a practiced, polite smile as he helped the shaken waiter to his feet.

"My apologies, sir," the supervisor began.

"Our manager is currently attending to three other important guests. May I ask what seems to be the problem? I'm sure we can work something out."

Jack sneered, looking the supervisor up and down like he was lower than dirt. "Oh? And who exactly do you think you are, butting in here?"

“I'm his supervisor,” the man replied evenly, maintaining his composure.

"This young waiter is under my supervision. Allow me to offer you a ten percent discount on your entire bill to make up for the inconvenience."

Before Jack could respond, Florence-his mother-let out an exaggerated scoff.

"Ten percent? A measly ten percent? Do we look like our pride can be bought for a few cheap dollars off the bill?!” She shot the supervisor a contemptuous glare. "You really think so little of us?"

The supervisor exhaled, already sensing this was about more than just lunch.

These two were clearly out to feed their own oversized egos not just their stomachs.

"Ma'am, I truly apologize," he tried again, his voice calm.

"It's just that our establishment requires reservations. We're fully booked this time. Perhaps you could come back next time, and I'll personally arrange something more...generous."

Inwardly, the supervisor was already considering quietly blacklisting this family-he never wanted to serve them again if he could help it.

"No reservation?" Jack practically spat the words out. "Don't you realize who's standing right here with us? This is Mr. Charles Kingston! How dare you turn him away!"

"We regret the circumstances," the supervisor said as tactfully as possible. "But the tables are all accounted for. If there was an extra seat, we'd be happy to welcome Mr. Kingston to sample our cuisine."

He clamped down on what he really wanted to say:

we

else to feed your ego-we won't be

room's

there are plenty of open tables!

Chapter 169

reserved, ma'am," the supervisor insisted, dropping his voice in a show of contrition. "I'm sorry, but they'll

started whining to his mother again, "Mom, this is useless. Let's just

glared at him. "We're already here, and I refuse to waltz

reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a sleek gold card, and offered it

me to book a table on short

handled all sorts of customers, but Gold VIP status was on a whole different

verify the card," he

greed. "Man, that card makes life

as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "It's not particularly complicated. You just have to deposit a million dollars into the restaurant's account and use it within three years

out a choked laugh. "A million bucks, just to

not throwing away that kind

the supervisor confirmed the

contain his own shock long enough to nod at the

could

was willing to drop a million dollars, the staff had no choice

the staff was expected to serve with a smile,

becoming the sacrifice, they had to

supervisor said,

back and graciously motioned toward

a snide grin as he strutted past, chin held high. “Hmph! Hear that? Gold VIP! Next time, pay attention to who

insult, he lightly tapped the waiter's cheek in a series

sir. Right away, sir," the young waiter said, barely concealing the disgust trembling in his

eyes and recogn. someone of standing when you see them!" She

the supervisor and the rest of the staff could do nothing but bow politely and plaster

they made their way toward a private dining room, they nearly bumped into Alex, who was stepping out of

froze, his mood darkening in an

Chapter 169

managed to get a job here. Busboy, is it?" Jack

didn't flinch. He stood his ground, arms folded, his gaze locked onto Jack's with

working

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