The Wrong One Fired

The boss had gone on a month-long business trip and left his girlfriend in charge of the company. Little would I expect that the very first blaze of her so-called authority would land squarely on me.

At ten that morning, I arrived at the office right on schedule, and immediately, a colleague nervously pointed toward the boss' office, and whispered, "Poppy Franklin is here. She wants you to go see her."

Poppy Franklin was the boss' new girlfriend—arrogant, overbearing, and sharp-tongued. If she disliked someone, she never hesitated to tear into them verbally.

Once, a female colleague had stayed in the boss' office a little longer than usual while giving a report, and Poppy immediately spread nasty rumors, claiming the woman was a call girl. She'd harassed her so relentlessly that the poor woman had eventually resigned.

But because Poppy knew how to sweet-talk him, the boss usually let her do as she pleased. I just hadn't expected that she'd set her sights on me next.

I set my coffee down and pushed open the office door. The instant I stepped inside, a folder came flying straight at my face.

"Do you even know what time it is?" Poppy snapped. "The company starts work at eight. Why did you only show up at ten?"

The sharp edge of the folder sliced across my forehead, drawing blood. I clutched my head and looked at Poppy, who was sitting behind the desk, lording her power over everyone.

Everyone in the company knew that ten o'clock was my official start time—a perk reserved for the top sales performer. It was an unspoken rule.

The boss had hired me by sheer accident when the company was on the brink of bankruptcy. But in my very first month, I'd brought in five million in sales and single-handedly dragged the company back from the edge. From then on, the boss had treated me like a prized asset, even consulting me on major decisions.

Poppy slammed her hand on the desk, her face twisted into something vicious. "Take a look at your punch-in records. You've been arriving at ten for an entire month. You really think company rules don't apply to you? According to policy, three days of lateness are grounds for termination. You're fired. Get out!"

I stared at Poppy in disbelief. "You're firing me? Did you even ask the boss?"

Eighty percent of the company's profits had come from me, and she thought she could just fire me like this?

Poppy snorted and looked at me with open contempt. "You're just a salesperson. A lousy salesman. Why shouldn't I fire you? This is my boyfriend's company. I'm the boss' woman here. I can fire whoever I want."

The boss had always treated me well—I couldn't just walk away like this. I sat down on the sofa and said calmly, "You should ask for the boss' opinion first."

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Who do you think you are?" As she spoke, she pulled out her phone and called the boss.

His voice sounded tired on the other end. "What is it?"

Just moments ago, she'd been shrieking at me, but now Poppy immediately softened her tone, her voice turning sweet and cloying. "Honey, I miss you."

The boss sighed. "Just say what you want."

Poppy shot me a smug glance. "There's a salesperson in the company who keeps breaking the rules and showing up late. I want to kick him out."

"Do whatever you want. I'm going to rest." The boss brushed it off casually and hung up.

Poppy looked at me, her expression smug and triumphant. "Did you hear that? I can fire whoever I want. Now get out."