"I was trying to be generous. For old times' sake. Letting you taste how the other half lives." Her lip curled. "But you just couldn't help yourself, could you? Had to act like you belonged."
She stepped closer, her perfume cloying.
"So now I'm going to teach you a lesson. Make you understand exactly what you are."
I didn't flinch. Didn't raise my voice.
I laughed.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Alberta, but we're nothing alike. I know exactly where I stand." I met her gaze, letting the smile fade. "You're the one who's confused."
The table erupted.
"Mike, seriously? You're still running your mouth?" One of the guys shook his head in disgust. "Looking down on Alberta? If you had any real money, you think she would've dumped your dead weight?"
"Her husband's worth hundreds of millions," another chimed in. "Your entire net worth probably wouldn't cover the change in his pocket."
"He's delusional. A clown playing pretend." Someone snickered. "If he actually tries to pay, nobody lend him a cent, got it?"
I ran my tongue across my teeth, then slowly turned to survey the room.
"Fascinating commentary, really. But here's the thing—I don't just look down on Alberta."
I let my gaze sweep across every face.
"I look down on all of you."
The room went dead silent.
"Because everyone at this table? You're garbage."
I don't do much socializing. But I understand basic decency.
From the moment I sat down, not one of these so-called classmates had mentioned a single genuine memory. Not one shared laugh from the old days. Instead, they'd spent the entire evening fawning over Alberta like trained seals.
People this shallow, this transactional—why should I bother saving their face?
The silence shattered. I became the target of every voice in the room.
Brett shot to his feet, slamming his palm on the table. "Mike Finch! Someone like you doesn't deserve to sit at the same table as us!" His face was mottled with rage. "Pay your bill and get the hell out!"
Alberta watched the chaos unfold, her smile deepening with every insult hurled my way.
She reached for a bottle of limited-edition Hennessy and poured ten glasses, filling each one to the brim.
"Mike." Her voice was honey laced with venom. "I understand that forty thousand is a lot to ask from a delivery boy."
"For old times' sake—since you did help me once—I'll return the favor."