My Boss Fired Me, Then Begged for Me Back

"We're not approving this reimbursement."

The AC in the finance office at the Los Angeles branch was blasting.

Director Linda tapped a finger with bright red nail polish against a receipt, then shoved it back across the desk at me like it was a piece of trash.

It was an airline itinerary worth one thousand dollars.

I stood in front of her desk, and the exhaustion from four straight days of nonstop work was instantly cut in half by how absurd this was.

I frowned and looked at her. "The client changed the meeting location at the last minute, which left me stuck on the freeway and made me miss my original flight. To avoid delaying the supply chain schedule the next morning, I paid out of pocket for the next available flight. Everything was properly submitted through the travel system. On what grounds is this being denied?"

"On what grounds?" Linda leaned back in her leather chair, folded her hands, and curled her lips into a mocking smile. "Because your work attitude is the problem."

I said nothing. My gaze turned cold as I watched her put on her little show.

Everyone in the office knew what it meant when a coworker said you had an attitude problem.

It meant they were looking for a way to come after you.

Under my steady, unreadable stare, Linda seemed to feel a flicker of pressure. She raised her voice to cover it. "Ethan, you don't need to look at me like that! If the client was late, that's the client's problem. But if you missed your flight, that means your schedule was poorly planned and your attitude toward work wasn't serious enough. Otherwise, how could you have missed it?"

"So what you're saying is, I should've spent the night sitting around at Dallas airport, then missed the factory audit the next morning—the one that could've brought the company a huge profit—just to save the cost of one plane ticket?" My voice wasn't loud, but I spoke fast, each point sharp and precise.

"Don't twist the issue!" Linda snapped. She grabbed the file on her desk and slammed it off to the side. "Don't think that just because you're a senior business manager you can spend company money however you want. Finance has rules. This delay was caused by your own negligence, so you're paying for it yourself. Honestly, even if this gets escalated, I'd still be in the right. It's about time someone taught a self-righteous person like you a lesson."

A lesson.

Hearing those words come out of the mouth of an accountant obsessed with pennies was both laughable and grating.

They didn't want people who could actually get things done. They wanted employees who obeyed without question and could be used up like office supplies.

I looked at her harsh, mean-spirited face and neither lost my temper nor begged the way other employees would have.

Only weak people vent their emotions.

I did just one thing. I picked up the itinerary, folded it neatly, and slipped it into the inside pocket of my suit jacket.

"So this is your lesson." I looked down at her coldly. "Fine. I'll report everything exactly as it happened to Richard. Let's see how the boss evaluates the cost of this 'lesson.'"

With that, I turned and walked out of the finance office, leaving Linda's furious muttering behind the glass door.

CEO Richard Davis's private office was at the end of the hallway.

When it came to workplace parasites like Linda, the best way to deal with them was to crush them with power from above.

I strode down the hall. But when I was only five steps away from the boss's office, the phone in my pants pocket suddenly started vibrating in a sharp, urgent burst.

It was the special alert I had set for that top-tier "major client."

I stopped and pulled out my phone. A secure email from a multinational supplier flashed across the screen:

"Ethan, we've finished confirming the production capacity data for the upstream assembly line. We're ready to move forward with the final confirmation of intent at any time."

The moment I read that line, my hand—already reaching for the door—stopped in midair.

This project was the result of a full month of sleepless travel, factory visits, market research, and relationship-building across the entire supply chain.

Once the letter of intent was signed and the contract took effect, I, as the lead on the deal, would receive 40 percent of the commission under the agreement.

That was a full two million dollars.

Standing in the shadow of the hallway, I found my mind strangely clear despite my bone-deep exhaustion.

If I walked in right now and argued with Richard over a one-thousand-dollar plane ticket, then knowing Richard's greedy, shortsighted nature—and how much he hated employees "making trouble" at critical moments—he probably wouldn't blame Linda at all. If anything, he'd decide I was being petty and failing to see the bigger picture.

Worse, once that negative impression took hold, there was a very real chance he'd use "emotional instability" as an excuse to interfere with my control of the project before the two-million-dollar client was fully secured. He might even plant someone on the account to watch me.

No one knew how to take advantage of chaos better than capital.

I lifted my head and looked through the gap in the blinds at Richard's hazy figure behind the frosted glass.

He was sitting there leisurely smoking a cigar.

Slowly, I pulled my hand back from the doorknob.

One thousand dollars' worth of pride, or complete control over two million dollars.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

The receipt in the inside pocket of my jacket seemed to radiate heat.

"Enjoy yourself while it lasted," I murmured.

Then I turned around, gave the boss's office my back without a second thought, and headed straight for the sales department.

For this amount of money, I could let it go.