They Called Me the Freaking Rulebot

I was in the office bathroom stall when I heard them trash-talking me.

The intern I'd trained for three months whined, "She's a heartless witch—like a robot with zero brain cells."

I was about to swing the door open when another voice jumped in, laughing.

"Documents incomplete."

"Receipts don't match."

"No signature? Denied."

"Seriously, we've all memorized the freaking rulebot's script!"

Once they were gone, I headed back to my desk.

The intern stormed in and slammed a fat stack of reimbursement forms in front of me.

"Don't go on another power trip and block everyone's claims."

I skimmed the obviously fake receipts. Normally, I'd tear into her.

But this time, I just smiled.

"My head's killing me. Can't read the fine print."

"What?" Bella froze, then shrieked, "Are you for real right now? Just admit you don't wanna approve them! You're clearly faking that headache!"

I took a breath. Didn't bother answering.

Back then, I might've broken it down for her—

Reimbursement receipts had to be legit.

Finance is the final checkpoint. If something's off, we're the ones in the hot seat.

Not that it ever got through to her. She'd snapped at me before with that same eye-roll energy:

"Rules don’t run the world—people do. Why are you so pressed?"

I'd kept it professional, taught her how to review reimbursements the right way—over and over.

But after what I heard in the bathroom, yeah... I went cold.

If she didn't care, then why should I?

I grabbed my thermos and turned to leave.

Bella scowled and grabbed my arm. "What, running off now? Feeling guilty?"

I didn't say a word.

She raised her voice.

"You think it's just me? Everyone's fed up with you blocking their reimbursements. What, skimming the cash for yourself or something?"

I froze—stunned at how insane that accusation was.

Just last week, she asked for a full-time position. I even wrote her a solid recommendation.

Didn't think she'd flip on me before it was even approved.

I yanked my wrist free and looked her dead in the eye.

"Bella. Let's be clear. The company has a reimbursement process. I'm just doing my job."

"Doing your job?" she scoffed. "You sound like a broken record. Are you even human?"

Then she shifted gears, barking orders like she ran the place.

"I don't care. You're signing off on everyone's claims today, no excuses. People might be too scared to say it, but I'm not. Rina, quit the stuck-up act. Stop acting like a freaking bot."

That got the peanut gallery going.

"Bella, you're savage!"

"Finally someone's putting Rina in her place."

With all that backup, Bella's smirk turned full-blown smug.

"See how hated you are? Try learning from me. Maybe actually understand your coworkers instead of making them jump through hoops."

Honestly, I almost laughed. The whole thing was absurd.

Right on top of the pile? A fake receipt that said 'Business Trip Taxi'—for ten grand.

What, did someone Uber cross-country?

I set it aside and grabbed the next one.

$5,200 e-wallet transfer.

Note: [To my wifey.]