Chapter 2The $15,000 Tab: How to Truly Cancel a Toxic Intern

"I had a family emergency."

"What emergency is more important than the department dinner? Tyler is practically crying his eyes out, saying you're bullying the new guy."

"I gave you guys the $800 budget."

"$800? The tab is fifteen grand! Who's going to cover the rest? We all split it? That's going to ruin everyone's holiday!"

"Whoever ordered it pays."

"Clara, you're the leader, you need to take responsibility. Tyler is new, he doesn't know the rules. You're a veteran, do you not know the rules either?"

"I know the rules perfectly. The company rule is an $800 budget for the dinner. For anything over that, the person who ordered it is responsible."

"Are you really not coming?"

"No."

"Fine, Clara. You've got some nerve. This isn't over."

Marcus hung up.

I stared at the neon lights flashing past the window.

In the past, I was too responsible. I took the blame for everything and cleaned up everyone's messes, which only spoiled them into thinking I was a pushover.

When I got home, I took a hot shower and fell right asleep.

I slept like a rock.

The next morning, I arrived at the office right on time.

As soon as I walked in, I felt the heavy atmosphere.

Everyone was staring at me, their eyes filled with disdain, anger, and the gloating anticipation of a good show.

Tyler was sitting at his desk. His eyes were red and puffy, the bags under them prominent, his face sagging like a miserable, deflated balloon. It was obvious he had been crying.

Seeing me, he shot up from his chair and slammed a folder hard onto his desk.

"Clara! Are you even human?"

The office instantly went dead silent.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, their eyes locking onto us.

I walked to my desk, set down my briefcase, and looked at him. "It's working hours. What are you screaming about?"

Tyler stormed over, pointing a finger right in my face. "Drop the act! You did that on purpose last night, didn't you? You said you were treating us, and then you ran! You made every single one of us shell out over two grand just to leave that restaurant!"

The other coworkers gathered around.

Dave looked grim. "Clara, you really went too far this time. We're all just working stiffs. How much do we make a month? Dropping half a month's salary on one dinner, how are we supposed to survive the holidays?"

Another female colleague chimed in sarcastically, "Exactly. Manager Clara makes six figures, so of course she doesn't care about this kind of money. We aren't like you; we have families to feed."

Marcus leaned against a cubicle partition, arms crossed, sneering. "Clara, when we were pooling our cash last night, everyone cursed your entire family tree. Tyler is just an intern, he had zero cash on him. He had to max out his credit card. You're a real piece of work as a manager."

I looked at their angry faces.

When they were scarfing down Maine lobster last night, they didn't have these expressions.

Back then, they were cheering, telling Tyler what a great job he did, waiting for me, the rich sucker, to foot the bill.

I turned to Tyler. "When did I ever say I was paying?"

Tyler's eyes went wide. "You didn't? When a department dinner is announced, isn't it an unwritten rule that the manager pays? Besides, when I was ordering, you never said I couldn't!"

"I was stuck in traffic."

"That's just an excuse! You just wanted to see me humiliate myself! This is retaliation because I rejected your advances!"

Tyler raised his voice, "Everyone, be the judge here! Does a woman who maliciously retaliates against her employees deserve to be a manager?"

"Advances?" I fired back. "When did I ever make advances on you?"

"Don't even try to deny it! You're always calling me into your office, insisting on taking me to client meetings. Isn't that just because you have an ulterior motive? I didn't give in, so you held a grudge and set a trap to screw me over!"

Tyler was getting more and more agitated. A grown man, crying on cue, putting on a sickeningly theatrical performance as the victim.