Part 1The Road to Success

For the company retreat, I was in charge of booking the restaurant. To save some money, I chose my family’s place, then posted it in the group chat to get everyone’s approval. Just as the chorus of “looks goods” was rolling in, the new intern, a Gen Z kid named Chloe, dropped a voice memo in the chat.

“Hey, Sarah,” her voice dripped with condescending sweetness. “No offense, but I was just wondering… how big of a kickback are you getting for this?”

“I mean, it’s our bonus money paying for this retreat. So, that kickback you’re getting? You should probably give it back to us, right?”

One by one, my coworkers started liking her message.

Fine. I immediately dropped the responsibility and passed the whole task over to her.

The day of the retreat, from the senior VPs down to the interns, everyone was either puking their guts out or sprinting to the bathroom. The client we were trying to impress went into anaphylactic shock and ended up in the ER. Just like that, the company lost an eight-figure contract.

* * *

The task of planning the company retreat had once again landed on my desk. My boss, Mr. Harrison, had been very clear.

“The company’s expenses are tight right now, Sarah. Let’s not go overboard.”

As the company accountant for the last ten years, I knew exactly what that meant: make it look good, but spend next to nothing.

I scrolled through Yelp until my eyes glazed over. Everything was either way too expensive or had questionable reviews about food quality. To cut costs and guarantee freshness, I decided to book my family’s restaurant. It was a nice little Italian place my parents ran. They offered to do it at cost—fresh, delicious, and cheap.

After confirming, I dropped the details in the company-wide Slack channel: *【Hey everyone, here’s the plan for the retreat dinner. Let me know if you have any objections.】*

A lot of my coworkers had eaten there before and loved it. The channel quickly filled with a sea of 👍 and “Sounds great!” emojis.

Just as I was about to finalize the booking, Chloe, the new intern, dropped her little bombshell of a voice memo.

“Hey, Sarah, no offense or anything, but I was just wondering, since we’re going to *your* family’s restaurant… how big of a kickback are you getting?”

“Because, you know, it’s our bonus money paying for this. That kickback you’re pocketing? I think you should probably give it back to us, don’t you?”

…

I felt a migraine coming on.

Chloe was the new intern in the sales department. She had walked in on her first day and announced she was here to “disrupt the corporate grind.” Any time a late night or extra work was mentioned, she was the first one to pipe up, quoting labor laws and talking about “quiet quitting.” She was a walking HR nightmare.

It’s not that people didn’t complain about her. But every complaint sent to management just seemed to vanish into a black hole. The general consensus was that for a rookie to be this bold, she had to have some serious connections.

And now, she was accusing me, the accountant, of embezzlement. That was the kind of accusation that could get my CPA license revoked.

I quickly typed back in the channel: *【The expenses for the retreat are fully transparent and itemized. No one’s bonus money is being used, and I am not receiving any kickback.】*