On My Seventh Day at Work, My Boss Forced Me to Give a $9,999 Gift
Chapter 3
3: 3
3
“My pay?”
Rachel raised a hand, signaling Constance to kill the stream.
The screen went black, and just like that, the hurt drained off her face.
“You ruined Baby's birthday party, and you've still got the nerve to ask me for your pay?”
Abigail pointed at the cake.
“That was a custom nine-tier cake Baby ordered specially. Can you even afford to replace it?”
I glanced at it.
“One layer of frosting got messed up. Fine, I'll pay for that. And the screen isn't broken. Plug the cord back in and it works.”
Rachel was so furious she slammed the table, looking like she wanted to slap me across the face.
“And Baby's feelings? The viewers who left the stream?”
“I wrote the livestream script. I edited the video. I built the whole screen setup. You had me pull three all-nighters in a row, never mentioned a cent of overtime, and now you want me to pay you?”
Constance slid a sheet of paper across to me.
“Cake, sixty-eight eighty-eight. Screen repair, three thousand. Livestream losses, twenty thousand. Baby's emotional repair fee, nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine.”
I stared at that last line and reached a whole new understanding of just how shameless they were.
“So emotional repair costs money now? You won't rest until you've squeezed this $9,999 out of me, is that it?”
Rachel clutched her chest.
“Baby was humiliated in front of over a hundred thousand people. I'll definitely be up all night, I'll need counseling. Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine is already going easy on you.”
Abigail jumped right in.
“Exactly! We're only not charging you for the rest because you're just an intern. Do you have any idea how much Baby's account makes in a single day? Tens of thousands! Twenty thousand in damages is letting you off cheap.”
Letting me off cheap?
This was straight-up robbery.
I picked up the sheet and tore it in half right there.
“You want damages? Give me every receipt. You just make up a number on the spot, and I'm not paying a cent of it.”
Constance's face darkened.
“You haven't been out in the working world yet, so you don't know to leave yourself an exit. Sign today, and the company will still give you a clean separation letter. Keep making trouble, and we can't promise what your background check ends up saying.”
“Threatening me with my background check?”
I tapped open a recording.
Back when the argument first started, when Rachel put my firing to a vote in the live chat, I'd already had the presence of mind to quietly hit record on my phone.
Every word of Constance clamping down on the payment code, refusing to let me leave, was in there.
Abigail moved like she was going to lunge for my phone. I backed against the wall, held it up, and kept my face dead serious.
“Touch me one more time and I'm calling the police right now. Every recording and video I have is synced to the cloud. Grabbing my phone won't do you any good.”
Rachel let her real face show, staring me down.
“You secretly filmed and leaked a company event. Baby can sue you for that!”
“You're the one who started the livestream. I saved evidence of being humiliated. What's the problem with that?”
Constance shifted her tone, putting on a face like she had my best interests at heart.
“Cecilia, why blow this up so big? You're only an intern. Delete the recording now, sign the voluntary resignation, and the company can knock a little off what you owe in damages.”
“Are you out of your damn mind?”
I couldn't hold back anymore and cut off her nonsense.
“I didn't resign voluntarily. You people forced this on me!”
“Then we'll process it as failing the probation period.”
Seeing I wouldn't budge an inch, Constance dropped the act and just printed out a termination notice, which said I'd disrespected my supervisor and deliberately damaged company property.
If I actually accepted a termination report like that, my job hunt would be over before it started.
I pushed the paper back.
“Cut the nonsense. Settle my pay first.”
Rachel said coldly,
“Give Baby an explanation, or don't dream of seeing a single cent.”
Fine.
She didn't actually think being the boss meant she could do whatever she wanted, did she?
I turned around and dialed the labor board.
Constance's eyes went wide in an instant, and she reached out to hold down my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Asking the labor board how to handle an employee who's gone seven days without pay and got pressured by her boss into a $9,999 gift.”
Rachel gritted her teeth and waved a hand.
“Forget it. Baby won't stoop to fighting with some kid fresh out of school. Settle her pay and tell her to get out.”
Ten minutes later, the settlement statement landed on my phone.
Seven days' pay, $886. Baby's birthday fee, $9,999. Birthday party damages, $3,200.
The last line read:
“Employee still owes the company $12,313.”
I looked up and laughed out loud.
“I worked seven days, and I owe you twelve grand?”
Rachel smiled again, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Well, whose fault is it for hurting Baby?”
You may also like
