Chapter 1
Victoria's POV
One of my employees went online and dragged me, claiming I'm making them sacrifice their health for a paycheck and forcing everyone to work over Thanksgiving.
Here's what actually happened. My company gives nine days off for Thanksgiving. Volunteer to work overtime, get triple pay, with a $500 daily meal stipend and a $5,000 bonus. No one gets penalized for not working.
The whole internet's tearing into me for making employees sell their lives for cash. So I give her exactly what she wants and send out a company-wide notice:
To protect employee mental health, the building gets locked and the power gets cut over Thanksgiving. No one is allowed to work for any reason. Anyone who does gets fired.
The minute that email goes out, the employees who were counting on overtime to pay their mortgages lose it. Now they're all crowded outside the building, begging me to open the doors.
"This year for Thanksgiving, the company is giving a full nine days off."
I stand at the front of the conference room, hands pressed flat on the table, scanning the sixty-plus employees in front of me.
The moment I finish speaking, cheers erupt across the room.
"Ms. Grant's the best!"
"Nine days! I can finally fly back to Ohio to see my daughter!"
"God, other companies are slashing PTO and we're getting nine full days!"
I raise my hand and press down gently.
The room falls silent.
"But as you all know, the priority-one Westfield Group project is due the first day back. We're on a tight deadline."
My voice stays level, no emotion in it.
"So for these nine days, the company's opening up voluntary overtime. No requirements, no pressure. Completely your choice."
I pause, then lay out the real deal.
"Anyone who volunteers to work gets triple their regular rate. The project team also gets a five-hundred-dollar daily meal stipend. Work the full seven days, and I'm throwing in a five-thousand-dollar cash bonus out of my own pocket."
Silence.
Dead silence.
Then the room explodes, even louder than before.
Jessica, a single mom, tears up.
She's paying three grand a month on her mortgage and has a kid in daycare.
"Ms. Grant, I'm in! I'll work all seven days. No, all nine!" Jessica does the math fast. Triple pay plus five grand means those seven days equal a month and a half of her regular paycheck.
"Count me in!"
"Me too!"
The room's buzzing with energy.
I founded StarPoint Media to give people who actually want to hustle, who actually need the money, a fair shot.
You put in the work, I pay you what you're worth.
No empty promises, just cash.
Then a sharp voice cuts through it all.
"Ms. Grant, don't you think this is completely out of line?"
Everyone turns.
It's Madison, a planning assistant who's only been here six months.
Her makeup's perfect, coffee cup in hand, looking all self-righteous.
I look at her, my voice cold. "Out of line? How?"
Madison stands, looking around like she's some hero fighting for the little guy.
"This is just encouraging hustle culture in disguise! You're creating holiday anxiety!"
Her voice gets louder. "National holidays exist so employees can rest. You dangle this huge overtime check in front of everyone. You really think people can relax when they see others cashing in? You're making people sacrifice their health for a paycheck!"
The room goes cold.
Jessica frowns, about to argue. Then she catches the approving nods from some of the younger staff and bites her tongue.
"Sacrifice their health for a paycheck?" I let out a laugh.
I stare at Madison, my eyes ice cold.
"Madison, I was crystal clear. Voluntary. Overtime."
"If you think rest matters more than money, go enjoy your nine days off. I won't dock your base pay. I won't fire you for not working."
"But you don't get to stop other people from making money just because you're not willing to work."
Madison's face flushes red, then drains pale as I call her out in front of everyone.
"But this creates workplace inequality! The people working rake in all that cash while the rest of us feel like shit for taking a normal holiday!"
Her logic is so backwards it's almost funny.
"So working for money is inequality now? You want equality? Simple. Come work."
I'm done wasting time on her. "Sign-ups close at five. We're done here."
I turn and walk back to my office.
Unlimited kindness doesn't breed gratitude. It breeds entitled babies.
I thought that was the end of it.
Thirty minutes later, someone knocks on my office door.
Madison walks in, eyes all red, looking like the world's biggest victim.
"Ms. Grant." She bites her lip, playing the victim. "I came on too strong in the meeting. Don't take it personally."
