Laura’s POV
“Here, it is, Miss,” Karen uttered, placing a plate of mashed potatoes, gravy and steak on the table.
“Okay, you may leave,” I discharged her, and she nodded before exiting the dining room.
Then, I cut up a small piece of the braised beef and ate it.
I spat out the steak as soon as it made contact with my tongue.
The steak was as salty as the water at an ocean floor and overtly oily, as if she had left it overnight to sit in a jar of oil.
Karen had successfully prepared the worst steak ever and had even served it to me, like the blockhead she was.
Hurrying over, she asked. “Do you have any problems with the food, Miss?”
For some reason, her question awoke the budding anger within me to its peak, and without thinking, I gave her a dirty slap.
“Do I have any problem wit
