The Perfumed Betrayal

Barbara pointed at me, her face twisted with anger.

"You! Get lost at once! You're fired!"

I was dumbfounded. This was all too similar to the scene that happened yesterday.

"Why?" I asked, puzzled. "Did something happen to the project?"

Barbara shook her head. "The project is going well."

"Is it because I took a few days off?"

"George approved your leave. It followed company policy."

"Then why are you firing me? I did nothing wrong."

"Lindsay Shields, I'm the boss. If I say you're fired, you're fired. Go to HR and collect your compensation, then leave my company in five minutes."

Barbara dropped back in her chair, heaving with anger.

She was usually a kind woman, always treating everyone in the company like her children. She was motherly and gentle. Even if someone had made a mistake, as long as it was not detrimental, she would always give them a chance to correct it.

I had not made a mistake at all. Besides, my performance had consistently ranked first in the company. She even thought of sending me abroad to handle the overseas business. She promised me that if the project ended smoothly, she would promote me and give me a raise.

All that, and she was looking at me with disgust this very moment, asking me to get lost.

I felt as if I had been cursed.

I asked, "Why? I didn't do anything wrong. Why are you firing me?"

George, my supervisor, was soothing Barbara, pointing to me at the same time, saying, "Just go. If you aggravate her condition, your little severance package won't even be enough to cover medical bills."

His words snapped me back to reality. I indeed could not afford that risk.

I left the meeting room, only to hear my colleagues murmuring among themselves, "I knew she'd get fired."

I rushed over to them, seemingly trying to find an explanation, "Tell me, why would I get fired?"

They replied, "Because you're a tramp."

Tramp.

There it was again.

Rachel also called me a tramp the day before. Daniel as well.

What had I done?

I looked at my reflection through the glass door. I was in a professional pantsuit. I was not in a miniskirt.

My shoes were leather loafers, not stilettos. I was dressed properly without any thick makeup or strange clothes.

I asked helplessly, "Tell me, why am I a tramp? What did I do?"

They took a few steps back, looking at me in disgust. They said to the security guard who just arrived, "Take her away."

I was once again escorted by guards.

I dejectedly left the building when my phone beeped.

The severance compensation had arrived in my bank account.

I called Zach, failing to stop my tears. Once he picked up, I cried and said, "It happened again. I don't understand why! Why are they doing this to me? I didn't do anything."

Zach replied, full of concern, "Don't worry. I'll stop work and come to see you. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have gone on a business trip. I'll come back at once. Don't be sad, babe."

Then, he sent me his flight details. "I'll be arriving at the airport around five in the evening. You don't have to pick me up. We'll head to dinner together."

"It's fine. You don't have to risk your job for me. I'll feel guilty."

Zach chuckled dotingly. "Isn't that what having a boyfriend is for? To trouble him? If I can't be there for you when you're upset, what's the point of me? I'll handle things here. Don't worry. I won't let go of my work, or of you."