Feel-Good Story Workplace Short Stories & Novels

Bored of having nothing to do at home, I hide my identity and apply for a job as a designer at the company my son, Jonathan Grady, runs. A few months later, I'm informed that the company wants to optimize its workforce, and I'm the first to get axed. "Why?" "Because you're menopausal. You can't get pregnant." Hearing that makes me scoff. What kind of absurd reason is that? "A designer uses her brains to do her job, no? When did a womb become so important?" I point at Sasha Johnson, who'd been hired before me and was now sitting at her desk, snacking on popcorn instead of working. "Her line compositions are still a complete mess, and she spends all of her time watching TV shows in the office. But just because she's pregnant, she's not included in the company's layoffs?" Fiona Lewis, the HR manager, looks at me as though I'm an idiot. "How can an old hag like you, who still has to work, compare yourself to her? She's pregnant with the boss' baby, you know. She's the future Mrs. Grady! The money we save from having to pay your salary can go toward buying her prenatal supplements." I freeze in shock. Did my son knock up one of his employees? But he told me he didn't want to have any kids!

I've gotten reborn on the night before Christmas. The first thing I do is send my boss, Jack Davenport, a resignation letter. Then, I board the next flight to Coral Bay for my vacation. In my previous lifetime, my colleague, Julie Trent, had called me when I was on vacation. She told me that the numbers on the account ledgers wouldn't add up, and the IRS would be conducting its audit soon. That was why she pleaded with me to save her. After hearing Julie's pleas, I boarded the earliest flight back to the city before hurrying back to my company. There, I double-checked all the accounts, leading to the discovery of the deficit in the accounts. So, I used my own money to pay off the deficit, allowing the company to pass the IRS' audit process. Even so, the submission of our accounts went past the deadline, resulting in the company receiving a fine. Julie decided to pin the blame on me. "There's a deficit in the accounts because Annie wanted to secretly embezzle the company's funds!" I quickly explained everything to Jack. But the very same boss, who used to be understanding and rational, just looked at me. "I thought you were on a vacation, Annie. Why did you return to the company all of a sudden? Did you plan on making the company suffer from a deficit in the accounts right before the IRS audit just because you're about to switch companies? "Anyway, you're the one causing the financial loss, to begin with. That's why you must compensate the company for the loss!" Later on, Jack hired the best lawyer and took me to court, completely disregarding whatever relationship we had as employer and employee. In the end, I lost the lawsuit, which meant I had to pay double the compensation to my company. On top of that, Jack even spread the word so that no one in the same industry would hire me. After that, I sold all of my assets, yet I still couldn't gather enough money to clear the debt. So, I could only take on the grungiest and lowliest of all jobs. As I couldn't eat my fill for a long period of time while having to take on huge amounts of work, I ended up dying from exhaustion in the end.

I got pregnant at the same time as a doctor from another department. But right after my nuchal translucency scan, the charge nurse came to see me. "The hospital is short-staffed. Leadership says only one female employee can be pregnant at a time." "This time, the slot goes to Dr. Valerie Stone. You need to terminate yours." I froze. "Dr. Stone and I aren't even in the same department. Our work doesn't overlap. "And I'm a nurse. She's a doctor. Our schedules are completely different." But the charge nurse only tapped stubbornly on my desk. "This is hospital policy. No one gets to be the exception. "Either you terminate the pregnancy, or you transfer to logistics. Your choice." A transfer to logistics meant my career would be over. No promotions. No clinical path. Just a rock-bottom base salary, barely above minimum wage. My fingers slowly tightened. I had worked at that hospital for eight years. I was one of the hardest-working nurses on the front line, and I won performance awards every year. Yet I was not even allowed to be pregnant. I took a breath and looked calmly at the charge nurse. "I agree to transfer to logistics." Less than a week after I left, the whole department fell apart.

I was an emergency physician. After finishing a night shift, I had just walked out of the hospital entrance when a colleague from the hospital called me. "Dr. Doherty, hurry back. A critically injured patient was just brought in. The chief wants you to return immediately and help with the resuscitation." I turned around without thinking. But then a stream of floating comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [Do not enter the operating room! Do not take part in this resuscitation!] [The patient is already dead. If you go in, you will be taking the fall for the hospital director's daughter!] [This patient's family is powerful. You will not only be sentenced to death, your parents will also be forced to jump to their deaths as well!] My steps stopped cold. A few seconds later, my heart tightened. I decided to believe the comments. I would gamble on it. My eyes swept quickly across the ground. I immediately locked onto an uncovered deep shaft on the road. I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes, and threw myself straight into the opening.

The day the company was exposed for accounting fraud, my CEO husband did the unthinkable. To protect his favorite assistant, Ivy Kane, he called a press conference and publicly pinned all the blame on me, vowing to make sure I paid the price. Ivy put on a heartbroken expression and said, "Olivia, I warned you a long time ago not to misuse company funds, let alone falsify financial records. Why wouldn't you listen?" My coworkers stared at me in shock, expecting me to defend myself. Instead, I smiled, accepted every accusation, and voluntarily resigned. My husband thought I had finally learned my lesson. He lowered his voice and promised, "When this is all over, I'll make sure you get your job back. And when the time comes, I'll make our relationship public. Consider it my way of making it up to you.” What he didn't know was that, to protect the company's interests, the chairman instructed me on opening day to install monitoring software on every computer in the office. The moment those system logs were retrieved, their lies would fall apart on their own. And when that happened, what awaited them wouldn't just be massive financial penalties, it would be prison.

One day, at work, there was an emergency surgery. As the doctor in charge, I reassigned the hospital’s only remaining dose of a highly sought-after specialty drug. The moment I stepped out of the operating room, I was escorted away by the Office of Medical Affairs and Governance. They accused me of improperly authorizing the use of a restricted medication and informed me that my medical license could be revoked. As I struggled to defend myself, a new intern hired by the chief of my department sent me a message. [Dr. Britton, how could you reassign a restricted medication without approval? Dr. Guzman worked incredibly hard to secure that drug for the department. You can’t just take it because you feel like it! I have a responsibility to help the chief keep things running smoothly, so I reported you to Medical Affairs. Doctors are supposed to put patients first. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to wear a white coat. From now on, every medication request in this department will require both my review and signature!] I could not help but laugh when I read it. That intern had only been in the department for a month. Seeing how approachable and easygoing the department chief was, she had apparently decided that it was her job to police everyone else. What she did not know was that my grandfather owned the hospital. That imported miracle drug everyone had been fighting to obtain? I had led the research team that developed it. In fact, I held the patent. Even the eight-hundred-dollar monthly stipend she received as an intern came from the funding allocated to my research program. How could using a drug I myself had invented ever constitute a protocol violation?

While I'm in a bathroom stall, I overhear one of the new hires standing at the sink sharing some good news with his family excitedly. "I've passed probation. My salary is 12,000 dollars a month!" I sat there, swallowed by a heavy, resentful silence. I've been with this company for six years. In my first year, my salary is 6,000 dollars, and I didn't get a raise. In my second year, it's still 6,000 dollars. At the end of the year, I get a 5% raise, which is an extra 300 dollars. In my third, fourth, and fifth years, my salary stays exactly the same at 6,300 dollars. Currently, I'm in my sixth year. HR talks to me today and tells me that next year, I'll receive another 5% raise, bringing my salary to 6,615 dollars. At this point, I'm responsible for coordinating five separate projects. Because the workload is too much, the company hires three new employees for me to train. The newest one has just passed probation, and his salary is 12,000 dollars. It is nearly double of what I make after six years of working for this company. I walk out of the restroom and head straight for the HR office to submit my resignation. The HR manager is stunned as she asks, "Why?" I reply, "Because the pay sucks, and I'm tired of being miserable."

I'm the type who has a ton of allergies. That's why my family has specifically hired a nutritionist to help prepare and monitor my meals while paying her a salary of 7,500 dollars per month. During my lunch break, the new intern, Julia Hall, suddenly tells me, "Emma, the food that you bring to work looks very healthy! You can prepare another portion for me from now on! "It so happens that I'm on a diet as well. Think of it as me going down the journey of dieting with you. I'll pay you five dollars per meal. You can earn quite a lot of money from this side gig, you know?" I'm flabbergasted when I hear Julia's words. The ingredients meant for my meals are specifically flown in using private jets. Not to mention, my family pays the nutritionist a lucrative salary. Five dollars can't even cover the transportation fees needed for my meals! I shake my head and turn Julia down on the spot. I refuse to give her a chance to use any plot holes against me. But the next day at noon, I've just left my desk to refill my water bottle. When I return, I realize that Julia has already taken my lunchbox away and has shared the food with the other colleagues while chatting animatedly with them. My lips curl into a cold smirk. Since Julia insists on taking advantage of me, then I might as well teach her a lesson she will never forget.

To fulfill his young girlfriend Wendy Baker's dream of becoming vice president, my husband faked amnesia after a car accident and used it as an excuse to strip me of my position. One afternoon, I happened to overhear a conversation between them. Wendy sounded hesitant as she asked, "Aren't you worried Elaine will never speak to you again if you do this?" My husband did not seem concerned in the slightest. "I'm only letting you have some fun for seven days," he said casually. "After that, I'll just tell her my memory came back. What's she going to do, hold a grudge against someone who was supposedly sick?" My footsteps slowed. I heard every word. However, instead of exposing his lie, I quietly walked away. The next day, during a company meeting, my husband slammed his hand on the conference table and publicly declared that Wendy was his wife. He demanded that I leave the company and hand over every project under my management. The entire room fell silent. Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to stop his absurd behavior, just as I always had before. However, this time, I did not argue. I did not defend myself. I simply picked up the resignation agreement and signed it. What he did not know was that the deadline for the company's most important project was only seven days away. More importantly, the client recognized only one person as the project's lead and sole point of contact—me. Seven days later, things would not go the way he had imagined. Instead of getting everything he wanted, he would find himself facing crushing financial penalties, lawsuits, and possibly even jail time.

Last Christmas—in my past life—I was on vacation when the call came. It was Lucy, the family’s new pet capo, and she was in a panic. She’d blown the deal with the Colombians, she said, and now they were threatening to make us pay. I had to rush back and clean up the mess. I saved the deal, but it still cost us a shipment of hardware. And then Lucy, the one who caused the whole mess, pointed the finger straight at me. “It was Madeline! She gave me bad intel! She must’ve set me up!” The truth? The deal went south because she mouthed off to the Colombians and pissed them off. But Henry, the Godfather I’d served loyally for years, didn't want to hear my side. He just branded me a traitor. He kicked me out of the family and put the word out to every outfit that I was a rat. I had a price on my head. I died in some gutter, my body left for the dogs. When I opened my eyes again, it was just before that Christmas. This time, I walked straight into Henry's study and handed over my family signet. "I want out." This time, I can’t wait to see who’s left holding the bag with the pissed-off Colombians.

During our company's Black Friday sale, an intern took it upon herself to change "Spend $300, save $50" to "Spend $300, save $350." In my previous life, I was the Director of E-commerce Operations. I shut down the servers immediately and stopped the company from bleeding nearly ten million dollars. At the year-end party, the intern stood in front of everyone with tears in her eyes, playing the victim. "Erin, all I wanted to do was drive user acquisition through a loss-leader growth hack!" "Customers would have come back to repurchase after getting the discount. Who gave you the right to cut off the company's revenue by killing the servers?" She posted a viral thread on Instagram: Gen Z Takes on the Workplace: How My Outdated Boss Sabotaged My Brilliant Idea. Strangers doxxed me and came after me in waves. I left the company due to depression. Eventually, her mob of rabid followers drove me off the edge of a roof. Now I've been given a second chance. When the intern points to the promo page that's about to go live and asks me: "Erin, does my Black Friday campaign look good to you?" "It doesn't just look good. This is the textbook definition of a viral growth hack!" I turn around, grab the documents, and announce over the company-wide PA system. "Cassie has personally guaranteed this campaign with her own and her boyfriend's credit history, signing a full liability agreement to cover any losses. Let's give her a hand, everyone!"

I am born lucky. One can say I'm a money magnet. I'd even win a car when buying a can of soda. The company relies on the numbers I pick to win bids. We go from the brink of bankruptcy to the third-largest company in the city. Then, during a business trip, I casually buy a lottery ticket and win 3,000 dollars. The newly hired finance manager, Owen Pearson, immediately demands that I turn over the entire prize. When I explain that I bought the ticket with my own money, he flies into a rage. "Any profit generated during working hours belongs to the company! Who do you think you are? How dare you refuse to follow company policy? If you win three million dollars after work, that's your business. But if you win three dollars during work hours, that's company property!" I can't be bothered to argue with him, so I call the CEO's fiancée, Macy Sanford. To my surprise, she agrees with him. "He has a point. If the company hadn't paid for your business trip, you wouldn't have had the opportunity to win the lottery in the first place." Owen is even more smug as he orders, "Just hand over the money. The 3,000 dollars will be deducted from your paycheck, and we'll deduct another 30 thousand dollars as a penalty for embezzling company funds. That should teach you a lesson." I tighten my grip on the lottery ticket and say nothing more. One week later, the company participates in the biggest bidding project of the year. Everyone turns to look at me, expecting me to provide the winning numbers. I simply smile and say, "Sorry. I've already resigned. I have no obligation to fill out the bid proposal anymore."

After I graduate from college, my uncle, Malcolm Caldwell, convinces my family to chip in and open a seafood restaurant. Dad and I wholeheartedly agree with his suggestion. Since then, we work as the restaurant's cooks. Five years later, our seafood restaurant becomes the top restaurant on the city's Must-Eat List. Our monthly profits hit more than 200 grand. On the day the earnings are to be split among us, Uncle Malcolm pockets 150 grand. Then, he passes 150 grand each to my cousins, Maxwell and Melanie Caldwell. The remaining sum, which is less than eight grand, is handed over to Dad and me. When faced with our questions, Uncle Malcolm adapts a matter-of-fact tone. "Max is in charge of dealing with the customers. He has suffered a lot just by having to deal with so many fussy customers every day. "Mel is the one in charge of the finances. She's worked so hard calculating every cent in the profits that we've earned." Then, Uncle Malcolm turns to look at us. "As for you two, all you do is hide in the kitchen all day. I bet you two have secretly taken many bites out of the customers' food all these years, right? "Since we're relatives and all, I shall not hold you accountable. How about this? If you two work hard, I'll make sure to reward you well if our profits double again next month." Dad is so furious that he's practically shaking. But I just hold his hand calmly and accept the money. "Fine. You can split up the shares however you want, Uncle Malcolm. I'm fine with it." Soon, they will realize that Dad and I are the actual profit generators, not them.

Out of sheer boredom, I randomly clicked into a livestream titled "Taming an Innocent Housewife." In the stream, a woman in a silk chemise was lazily puttering around the kitchen. When the camera finally showed her face, I was completely stunned—it was me. Not only that, but on the public chat, the top donor was spamming gifts like crazy. [Make her drink that spiked milk.] Soon after, a man groveled in response: [Thanks for the gift, bro. She'll drink it right now. I promise you a hell of a show tonight.] I'd recognize that voice anywhere—it was my husband, Jake, who was supposedly on a business trip overseas. My own husband had turned our home into a hidden-camera setup, treating me like his personal reality show star. And now, he was trying to feed me illegal drugs just to rake in donations. Most people would've broken down or called the cops. But I'm what you'd call the ultimate pro at playing nice—everyone in our circle knows I'm the queen of manipulation. I picked up that glass of milk, looked straight into the camera, and gave a fragile, tantalizing smile. "Since my husband's not home, drinking this milk all alone feels so lonely... I wish some strong, capable guy would come take care of me." The chat exploded. Donations went through the roof. Later that night, Jake burst through the front door, ready to "discipline" me—but froze in his tracks. There I was, sitting in lingerie on the lap of the top donor, grinning at my husband. "Honey, you're back! I helped you hit your goals tonight!"

The night before the tender meeting, my own brother suddenly kicked me out of the project team. "You don't need to attend the tender meeting tomorrow. Give the opportunity to Jenna. I specifically turned down the Wetland Project so I could personally accompany her to the meeting." I froze. Then I rushed off to argue with him, only to run into my fiancé in the corridor as he handed a USB drive to the intern. When he saw me, he spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I've already handed the proposal you prepared to Jenna. She'll handle it just fine. You're the CEO's daughter—you don't need this one achievement. Jenna's just an intern. She needs the results more than you do." The two of them stood on either side of the intern, looking at me like I was nothing. The project I had poured a full month of effort into had just been handed over to someone else to claim. Just then, I received a message from my father's secretary. 'Ms. Cladwell, the chairman wants you to take over your brother's Wetland Project. If you perform well on this project, you'll become the company's heir.'

I spent three years studying like my life depended on it before I finally earned a government job. Then, on my first week there, I saw a familiar face. My cousin. The same cousin I’d met at that awkward family reunion back home. Somehow, he had gotten hired by the same department. A few days later, at a family dinner, he made his move. With my uncle sitting right there at the head of the table, acting every bit like the important city official he was, my cousin shoved a classified file into my hands. The pages had clearly been tampered with. Before I could say a word, he let out a sharp cry and dropped to the floor. The file spilled open across the tile. “Ethan!” he shouted, his voice trembling with fake disbelief. “That’s confidential government material! How could you steal it and show it to outsiders? Was the finder’s fee really worth selling us out?” My uncle slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his face dark with rage. He said he would not protect family at the cost of justice. He said he would fire me on the spot and report me to the higher-ups himself. That was when a string of floating comments appeared in front of my eyes. [This cousin is painfully stupid. Does he seriously not know the male lead was brought in from above as the head of the internal inspection team? He’s here to investigate him.] [And the uncle is still acting. Hilarious. The inspection team’s car is literally about to pull up outside.] I read the comments, then calmly lifted my teacup and took a slow sip. Across from me, my cousin was still trying to look loyal and outraged. I set the cup down and smiled. “You’re right about one thing. This file is confidential.” His eyes lit up. Then I added, “But you changed the wrong section.” The color drained from his face. I turned to my uncle. “And Uncle, didn’t you just say you’d put justice before family?” I pushed back my chair and stood. “Great. Then come with me to the Special Investigations Unit and explain how many people you’ve illegally helped into the department over the years.” My cousin stared at me, completely stunned. He had fought so hard to get into public service. He had no idea I was the one sent to clean it up.

To help my wife secure a director position, I spent an entire month working on a single deal, negotiating back and forth until I locked in the sale of a multimillion-dollar luxury apartment. On the day we were supposed to sign, Stella Frost handed the main contract to Tanner Davis, a new hire who had barely been with the company. When I asked Stella about it, she hesitated, her eyes shifting away before she answered. "Tanner studied overseas. His background is stronger than yours, and his Waldreich is better. The client has a foreign partner. It'll go more smoothly if he takes the lead." As she spoke, she slipped her arm through mine, like she always did when she expected me to back down. This time, I didn't smile. I just looked at her. That afternoon, I submitted my resignation and finished handing over every major client under my name. Stella tore the letter apart in front of me, her frustration turning quickly into something sharper. "When I married you, I didn't even care that you only had a high school education. And now you're making an issue out of a new hire?" I let out a quiet laugh. She was right. My education wasn't impressive. But she had forgotten one thing. I hadn't become the top closer in the city because of a degree.

To help my husband, Ryan Whitaker, compete for the director position, I spend an entire month securing the sale of a luxury apartment worth tens of millions of dollars. On the day the contract is signed, Ryan hands the primary contract to Lucinda Brooks, a new employee who has just joined the company. When I demand an explanation, his eyes flicker with guilt. Still, he argues, "Lucinda studied abroad. She is more academically accomplished than you, and her Iridian is better. The client happens to have a foreign business partner, so it'll be smoother if she takes the lead on the signing." As he speaks, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, expecting me to compromise like I always do. But this time, I don't smile but continue to pull a long face. That very afternoon, I submit my resignation letter and hand over every core client under my management. Ryan is furious as he tears up the resignation letter and mocks me. "When I married you, I didn't even care that you only graduated from high school. Why are you picking a fight with a newcomer now?" I laugh. It's true that I don't have an impressive educational background, but he's forgotten one most crucial thing. I didn't earn my title as the company's sales champion through academic credentials.

At the company celebration dinner, I had just led my team through a major project and was about to go onstage to give my report. Then someone snatched the microphone right out of my hand. Freya, the newly appointed director, strode onto the stage and claimed all the credit for herself with a single speech. “I’m the CEO’s younger sister. My brother sent me to this branch to gain some experience. “From now on, everyone here answers to me. I promise I’ll get him to give this branch more resources, and I’ll lead all of you to bigger and better things.” I was so angry I almost laughed. I asked her what proof she had. To my surprise, she actually listed several of the CEO’s private habits, things an outsider shouldn’t have known. Then she even pulled out a photo of them together. I was about to argue, but my boyfriend, Chuck, grabbed me and dragged me off the stage. “Are you insane? If she’s the CEO’s sister, then just put up with it. Don’t cause trouble for the company.” I looked at Freya, who stood onstage with a smug smile on her face. Only one thought filled my mind. Since when did my brother have another sister?

The company was preparing to host a major client from Qamaria. So, I pulled three straight all-nighters to put together a flawless reception plan. Unfortunately, I made a critical mistake in the middle of all that work. I completely forgot about the Qamarians' restrictions regarding the consumption of pork. By the time I realized my blunder, the menu featuring roast suckling pig had already been submitted to the catering department and could no longer be recalled. I slumped at my desk, my back drenched in cold sweat. If the client took offense, not only would the $300 million contract fall through, but I'd likely also be blacklisted by the entire industry. Just as I despaired and opened my computer to write my resignation letter, my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart suddenly came running over in tears. "Evelyn, I could overlook you stealing my bonuses and clients, but I've finally gotten a chance to secure a full-time position. Why would you steal my reception plan and claim it as your own?" Even my boyfriend jumped in to support her. "It's a good thing I caught it in time and changed the name to Claire's. You'd be fired if Ms. Bennett found out about this." I immediately donned the pitiful expression of someone being slandered, unable to defend herself. In truth, I was thrilled. After all, they were referring to a 300-million-dollar contract. Since the harpy loved stealing others' credit so badly, she could take the fall for it, too.