I'm no Scapegoat, I'm Your Boss
Gold prices had recently crashed, and five hundred thousand dollars' worth of purchase reserves had vanished from the branch's accounts.
Jane Lynch, the department manager, threw a report in my face.
"Mavis Gomez! We sent you to buy equipment, and you used the money to trade gold? The chairman is inspecting the branch this afternoon. Sign this confession now, and the company might still put in a good word for you."
Thomas Jones, the branch manager, stood beside her and tapped the table. "You're an intern with no connections. Where did you find the audacity to do such a thing?"
My coworkers were already blaming me in the company group chat for costing them their year-end bonuses.
[Interns these days have some nerves! She always looked so meek, but to think she would steal company money!]
I knew Jane and Thomas had used the money to trade gold. They just wanted to use a nobody like me to take the blame.
I looked down at the report bearing my forged signature and burst out laughing.
They had no idea that the chairman everyone described as ruthless and merciless had made me a sandwich that morning and begged me to cut my internship short and come home to take over the family business.