Part 1My Colleague Offered Me $50 For My Designer Bag

Late one night, someone tagged me in the company’s after-hours group chat.

“@LilyLin-Design, that Hermès bag of yours, is it the global limited edition?”

“I have a major gala next weekend and I’m in desperate need of a bag. Yours is just sitting there anyway, so lend it to me. I need to make an impression.”

The sender was Mandy Wang, the star saleswoman. She had a habit of talking to people like she owned them.

I typed back a simple reply: “No.”

A string of voice messages immediately followed, her tone sharp and acidic.

“Aren’t you a petty little thing? We’re colleagues, what’s the big deal with helping me out?

Don’t worry, I won’t use it for free. I’ll give you fifty bucks for a rental fee. That’s more than generous, isn’t it?”

I had to laugh. Fifty dollars to rent a bag worth tens of thousands?

* * *

It was ten o’clock at night when “The Water Cooler,” our company’s unofficial group chat, lit up.

A message tagged me directly.

“@LilyLin-Design, that Hermès bag of yours, isn’t it a limited edition?”

The sender’s profile picture was a polished corporate headshot, her name listed as “Mandy Wang - Sales.” She was the company’s ace, consistently ranking number one in performance. Her every word and action carried an air of absolute authority.

The chat instantly buzzed to life.

A girl from Admin posted a star-eyed emoji: “Wow, Mandy’s taste is always top-tier!”

Another salesperson chimed in: “Any bag would look a level up on Mandy!”

I stared at the screen and said nothing.

Mandy, it seemed, had little patience.

A second message followed on the heels of the first.

“I have a major gala next weekend and I’m in desperate need of a bag. Yours is just sitting there anyway, so lend it to me. I need to make an impression.”

Her tone wasn’t a request. It was a notification. As if lending her the bag was a privilege she was bestowing upon me.

A few of her cronies in the chat started to hype her up.

“Come on, Lily! Mandy herself is asking, you have to say yes!”

“Yeah, the fact that Mandy even noticed your bag proves you have good taste.”

I looked at the messages, my fingers tapping out two words before I hit send.

“No.”

The chat fell dead silent.

The peanut gallery that had been so vocal moments before was suddenly mute.

After a full thirty seconds, Mandy’s icon popped up again.

This time, it was a thirty-second voice message.

I pressed play, and her sharp, grating voice drilled into my ear.

“Well, well, Lily, aren’t you a petty little thing? We work in the same company, we see each other every day. What’s the big deal with helping a colleague out?”

“Do you have any idea who I am in this company? You’re new, you should have asked around. Me asking to borrow something from you is me giving you face.”

The message cut off, and another one started.

“Don’t worry, I won’t use it for free. I’ll give you fifty bucks for a rental fee. That’s more than generous, isn’t it? That’s enough to cover your take-out for a few days.”

Fifty dollars.

I was so taken aback by her sheer, unadulterated entitlement that I laughed out loud.

A bag worth tens of thousands, and she thought she could brush me off with fifty bucks.

I was about to type back, to inform her just how many zeros were in the bag’s price tag, when another message from her appeared. This one was text, dripping with menace.

“Don’t be ungrateful. I’m giving you a chance here. You’re new. Getting on my good side will make your life a lot easier.”

“Besides, that bag of yours is probably gathering dust. I’m doing you a favor by taking it out to see the world, and you even get a free meal out of it. What’s not to like?”

“It’s just a bag. Why are you being so cheap? Think about the big picture.”

I stared at my phone, my expression growing colder by the second.

It wasn’t just a bag.

It was the only thing my mother had left me.

Just then, a few private messages came through.

One was cautionary: “Lily, Mandy runs this place. You’re new, don’t cross her. Your life will be hell.”

Another was supportive: “She’s insane. Fifty bucks to rent a Hermès? The audacity!”

I ignored them all and replied directly to Mandy in the group chat.

“First, my bag is not for loan, especially not to you.”

“Second, my bag has probably seen more of the world than you have.”

“Third, keep the fifty bucks. Buy yourself a clue.”

After sending those three messages, I didn’t bother to look at the chat’s reaction.

I knew I had just made a powerful enemy.

Sure enough, less than a minute later, my private messages were bombarded by Mandy. All voice notes, each one seething with rage.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Lily!”

“How dare you talk to me like that in the group chat? Are you trying to get fired?!”

“Fine. You’re good. Just you wait!”

I blocked her.

And the world went quiet.

I thought that would be the end of it.

But just before I went to sleep, Mandy tagged me one last time in The Water Cooler. Since I had blocked her DMs, she resorted to shouting in public.

“Lily, be in my office tomorrow morning. We’ll have a chat, face to face.”

“Don’t make me come down to the design department to ‘invite’ you myself.”