Cursed family

As the woman poured the champagne with a smile, Eli gathered a little courage and asked, "You don't have food here, do you?"

The woman's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked at Eli with a hint of surprise. "Food?" she repeated.

Eli nodded eagerly. "Yes, food. I'm starving."

The woman's smile returned, and she laughed. "Well, Mr. Vanderbilt, I think we can arrange something for you. What would you like to eat?"

Eli's eyes widened in excitement. "Anything! I'll take anything. Just please, tell me you have something more substantial than just champagne and truffles."

The woman chuckled and nodded. "Don't worry, Mr. Vanderbilt. We'll take care of you. But first, let me ask you something."

Eli leaned forward, curious. "What is it?"

The woman smiled mischievously. "Do you have any dietary restrictions, Mr. Vanderbilt? Any allergies or preferences we should know about?"

Eli thought for a moment before responding. "Uh, no. I don't think so. Unless... unless you count being allergic to hunger."

The woman laughed. "Well, Mr. Vanderbilt, I think we can arrange something to cure that particular allergy."

As Eli waited for his food, he couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. He looked around the luxurious room, trying to take in every detail. But before he could get too comfortable, he heard a knock on the door.

"Who... who is that?" Eli asked, trying to sound confident.

"It's me, your food is ready. May I come in?" a deep, cheerful voice replied.

"Yes, yes, come in, please," Eli said, trying to hide his nervousness.

The door swung open, and a tall, imposing figure with a bushy white beard and a chef's hat walked in. He was carrying a large, silver tray laden with all sorts of delicious-looking dishes.

"Ah, Mr. Vanderbilt, your food is served," the chef announced, setting the tray down on a nearby table.

Eli's eyes widened as he took in the spread. There were steaks, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, and even a few dishes he didn't recognize.

"Wow, this looks amazing," Eli said, his stomach growling with anticipation.

The chef beamed with pride. "Thank you, Mr. Vanderbilt. I'm glad you like it."

Eli dug in, savoring the flavors and textures of the food. As he ate, he tried to make small talk with the chef.

"So, what's going on today at the party?" Eli asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

The chef's expression changed from cheerful to confused. "What do you mean, Mr. Vanderbilt? This isn't a party."

Eli's eyes widened in surprise. "It's not? Then what is it?"

The chef looked at him like he was crazy. "It's a private meeting for some of the city's most influential people, Mr. Vanderbilt. You're the guest of honor."

Eli's face turned bright red as he realized the mistake. He wasn't who they thought he was. He was just a poor guy who had snuck into the VIP room by mistake.

But before Eli could say anything, the chef continued. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Mr. Vanderbilt, I have to get back to the kitchen. Enjoy your meal."

With that, the chef turned and walked out of the room, leaving Eli feeling like he was in way over his head.