Our Overtime Novels & Stories

A quirky, eccentric rule from a centuries-old company with an archaic reputation hidden in plain sight. Tonight, as the last wave of day-shift workers emptied into the city, a smaller group remained behind. They gathered in hushed clusters at their desks, shuffling paperwork, logging into terminals, rubbing at tired eyes. To them, overtime was routine—a grind they tolerated for the promise of advancement and higher bonuses. But one of them, a young woman named Claire Hensley, had been requested to stay. The email had come from a superior she barely knew, with the subtle authority that no one dared refuse.

“Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.” “What?” “I said good night.” “I heard you. I’m asking why you are saying goodbye to me at this time of day.” “It’s 10 pm. My official work hour ended hours ago.” “So?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and he’s beginning to piss me off. “So, I’ve been working past my official hours for the past week. This is called overworking and it’s illegal.” “I’ve been overworking too.” “Well, it’s your company.” “And I pay you.”

“Aren’t the projects suspended? Some of them are getting relaunched, but there is no need for so many to work overtime. It’s late. They should get some rest.” Snow did not appreciate unproductive extra work. The overtime was only justifiable if there were business needs. The problem was the time wasted when there was no actual work to be done. It was a horrible workplace culture.

He had deliberately done this and gave her the cold shoulder because he hoped she would cherish him more. It was early in the morning when Liam informed Larry that he would work overtime and would probably stay in the office till late at night. It was rare for employees to work overtime at Luther Corporation. It was an achievement that few companies were capable of accomplishing. However, Liam was a workaholic, and it was common for him to work overtime. His assistant was perplexed by the instructions. This was the first time his boss specifically told him in the morning that he would be working late.

They looked so skilled and determined. The stuffy, hot and cramped atmosphere seemed to have no effect on them. They were being chased by targets to finish the pants so they were ready in a short time. "How many hours do they work in a day, Uncle?" asked Praveen. "Ten to twelve. It could even be more. But the excess can count as overtime." "Is there time off?" "No. They only get my permission if they have an urgent need. But rarely do they get it because I will cut their salary."

After reading the text, Catherine put away her phone and went back to focusing on her work. Marshall passed by and saw that she wasn't planning on leaving yet, so he stopped and asked, "Not going back yet? Work overtime again?" Catherine stopped what she was doing and turned to him. "Professor, isn't it rare for a supervisor like you to always refuse students to work overtime?" Marshall replied with a proud look, "Working overtime is not a sign of hard work. Efficiency should come first, and it's important to balance work and rest. If your body is worn out, there is no way to make up for it."

Kevin sign and said “Guys, we have overtime today. Get back to your works” We all started to do work. Everyone is working like a robot. I am giving them the information they needed. I am helping them to analyze the data. Since I am good at Maths, I can do it a little bit fast. The day went so busy that we even forget to talk. No one wasted a minute, they were working hard to complete this within today. It’s not that easy to do this. How can he just tell us like this? Doesn’t he know we have to work overtime for this?

Harry crouched next to me watching the whole thing with wide eyes like he was watching a nature documentary about a species he'd never encountered before. To be fair, they were acting like new creatures! Introductions went around and I learned everybody’s name carefully. Then Tommy's phone buzzed. His face dropped as he read the message he got " There is a mandatory overtime this weekend," The complaints exploded instantly. "Are you serious right now!" "I told management about my son's game weeks ago!" "Three months I've been planning my anniversary dinner! Three months! My wife is going to actually kill me!" "They can't keep doing this to us!"

- "It's not so bad here. We have a salary, health insurance, a food card and we get some extras in case we need to go overtime. - Overtime? - She nods her head yes and takes a bite of food into her mouth. - 'Sometimes I make almost two thousand a month in overtime alone. - Wow! - I say with disdain. I'm not sneering, but two thousand a month doesn't even begin to pay off the debts my father left behind. Not to mention rent and everyday bills. I mentally snort. And then there's my mother, who can't be left alone. I'll have to think about where to leave her during the day while I'm at work.

"One for my New York home; one for the new home I'm having built in Los Angeles. We have some time on the second. There will be a bonus for getting the one for New York quickly. I understand there's about a five week waiting list now?" "Yes, sir," I replied. "A thousand dollars for each week you can get it done under five." "That would be unfair to our other customers, Master." William laughed again. "Someone else who doesn't want my money, Evelyn. Maybe we should move to Fresno instead?" "Perhaps so, sir." "Here's the deal, then. You don't work on my bed during normal working hours. Let your other customers get those beds. Only work on mine after normal closing time and on weekends A fifty