I looked at Meg and forced a smile, the kind that squeezes tears out of your eyes.
My stiff fingers tapped on my phone as I typed back, my hands shaking.
[Got it, sir. I’ll remember this lesson. I swear I’ll never order a five-dollar dish again and “waste company resources.” Next company dinner, I’ll just drink water and not touch a single dish.]
A message that looked like an apology dropped into the group chat like water into a pot of hot oil.
On the surface, it sounded obedient, but underneath, it was loud and clear: an employee completely disappointed in her company.
Right after sending it, I logged out of every company system.
Then I seriously “reflected on my misconduct,” just like they wanted.
Cody, who loved saying “if you’re not in that position, don’t try to do that work,” shoved me to a desk next to the restroom.
Every day, I had to endure coworkers walking past—some looking down on me, others pitying me.
Meanwhile, Sadie smugly took over my workstation and started bossing the whole department around.
But my role? Not so easy to fill.
Every project had been handled personally by me—from design to production. I knew every detail.
But Sadie? She didn’t know a single thing. After just a few days, more than a dozen clients filed complaints, demanding that I take over again, or else they’d cancel their contracts.
The company was about to take a huge financial hit.
Finally, Cody couldn’t stomach it anymore. He lowered himself and walked to my sad little desk.
“Phoebe, these projects were originally yours. There are some technical issues now. Go coordinate and get the clients satisfied.”
I lazily looked up at him, acting confused.
“Sir, did you come to the wrong person? I’m still suspended, remember?”
He paused for a second, his voice going stiff.
“Even if you’re suspended, you still have to work. It’s company policy. You’re responsible for your own projects.”
I spread my hands.
“But I already logged out of everything. I can’t access any of the files.”
His expression froze, his eyes filled with suppressed anger.
“Suspension isn’t termination! Why’d you log out? Re‑apply for access right now.”
I calmly looked at him.
“You’re the one who said ‘if you’re not in the position, don’t do the job.’ I’m just following orders, sir.”
His face twitched, but he held his temper.
“Fine. Your suspension is lifted. Contact the clients immediately and make sure they don’t pull out.”
I smiled.
“Sir, shouldn’t you be asking your top sales performer for help? I’m just a girl who ‘uses her looks’ to get results, remember? I don’t have that kind of skill.”
His face turned the color of liver—dark, angry, ugly.
“Phoebe, coworkers joke around. You actually took that seriously?”
I kept smiling, but the smile had shards of ice in it.
“So when my Sales Champion title was revoked and I lost a 70,000‑dollars bonus—that was a joke, too?
“And me ordering a five-dollar dish being labeled as ‘extravagant waste’—also a joke?”
Each word hit him like a slap.
His face went red, then white, then a sickly bluish-purple.
He stayed silent. I knew he was wrestling with himself. Admitting he’d messed up just didn’t fit a big boss like him.
Just then, Sadie came running over, excited.
“Sir! CipherLux Innovations agreed to invest!”
Cody instantly lit up, smiling like he’d already won.
“Great! Ah, Sadie, you’re the company’s lucky star! With their company backing us, clients will be begging to cooperate!”
Then he shot me a vicious glare.
“Ms. Tuffield, you’re fired. Go process your termination right now.”
I nodded calmly.
“Sure. I’ll need the company to pay the required compensation.”
He exploded.
“Compensation? After the damage you caused? Just wait—our legal department will sue you!”
Sadie shot me a hateful look.
“Bitch, I’ll make sure the whole industry blacklists you.”
