The Price of Greed
During a weekly meeting, a new intern suddenly swapped the projection.
The screen lit up with my attendance records, and all my colleagues’ eyes turned to me.
The girl lifted her chin, a mix of arrogance and ignorance in her gaze, then slammed a stack of photos onto the conference table.
“Mr. Anderson, I’d like to report her! She’s been using the company car to shuttle her family around, treating company resources like her personal vehicle. This must be dealt with immediately!”
The room fell into an eerie silence.
I looked at the eager intern, feeling a trace of sympathy.
The “company car” she was complaining about was my luxury car.
Three years ago, I had lent it to the company for appearances in business settings. Yet, I never charged a cent.