Rachel reluctantly agrees to buy a $2,000 watch for their boss after her colleague Emily promises to split the cost. But when Emily refuses to pay her share, Rachel is left struggling with the unexpected financial burden. Determined to teach Emily a lesson, Rachel devises a clever plan to expose her deceit. But will she succeed in bringing Emily’s dishonesty to light?
“That’s a lot of money, Emily,” I sighed, stirring my coffee slowly.
A person stirring coffee | Source: Pexels
“Oh, come on, Rachel,” she said, sitting across from me. “Think about it! A $1,600 watch for Mr. Johnson’s birthday would show our dedication. Plus, I’m sure he’ll love the customized engraving. Oh, and with that, the total would be $2,000.”
I took a sip of my coffee, trying to buy some time. “It’s just… that’s a huge expense. Are you sure about this?” I asked.
A woman sipping coffee | Source: Pexels
“Absolutely!” she replied, nodding eagerly. “Trust me, Rachel. It will be perfect. And don’t worry about the cost. We’ll split it, and I promise to pay my half as soon as possible.”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I liked Emily, despite her reputation for sucking up to management. She’s always the one staying late, bringing coffee, and organizing events. But this whole watch idea seemed too much, even for her.
A man wearing a watch | Source: Unsplash
“Emily, I don’t know. I have bills to pay, and $2,000 is a lot for me right now,” I said, hoping she’d understand.
“Rachel, this is an investment in our future here,” she insisted, trying to convince me. “Imagine the impression we’ll make! Mr. Johnson will remember this forever, and it could really boost our standing in the company.”
A smiling woman chatting with her colleague | Source: Pexels
I sighed again. Emily always had a way of making things sound so simple and beneficial.
“Alright,” I said reluctantly, finally giving in. “Let’s get the watch. But please don’t forget what you’ve promised.”
“Of course, Rachel,” she said. “He’ll love the gift!”
A man in a suit with his arms folded | Source: Pexels
Soon, Mr. Johnson’s birthday arrived.
Emily had everything meticulously planned.
She walked into his office first, and I followed, holding my breath.
A man holding a pen and pointing at a monitor | Source: Pexels
“Mr. Johnson!” she exclaimed, standing beside his desk. “We have a special surprise for you!”
Mr. Johnson looked up from his paperwork, clearly curious.
Emily handed him the elegantly wrapped box, her eyes shining with pride. “This was our idea,” she said, “but I really pushed for it because I knew it was perfect for you.”
A person holding a gift in their hands | Source: Unsplash
I stood there, smiling awkwardly. Emily opened the box to reveal the watch, and Mr. Johnson’s eyes widened in surprise.
“This is incredible. You really didn’t need to!” he said, examining the watch. “Thank you so much. This is really thoughtful.”
A watch on a man’s wrist | Source: Unsplash
Emily beamed, soaking in his praise. I forced a smile, feeling a pang of regret. I had hoped this gift would be a gesture of teamwork, but it quickly became Emily’s solo performance.
She kept talking about how she had put extra effort into getting the gift for him, which made me realize I had spent a thousand dollars for nothing more than a front-row seat to Emily’s self-promotion.
A young woman talking to an older man | Source: Midjourney
“This is wonderful, Emily. Thank you again,” Mr. Johnson said.
Emily turned to me with a triumphant grin. “See, Rachel? I told you he’d love it.”
I managed a weak smile. “Yeah, he really does,” I said.
A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney
A week passed, but I didn’t hear anything from Emily about her share.
One day, I found her in the break room, chatting away with another colleague. I waited until she was alone before approaching her.
“Hey, Emily,” I started calmly. “I… I just wanted to remind you about your share of the cost of Mr. Johnson’s watch. I have some expenses, and I really need that money right now.”
Two women chatting at workplace | Source: Freepik
Emily looked up at me with a condescending smile. “Oh, sweetie, I thought you were just helping out. I never intended to pay. Besides, you earn more than I do, don’t you? Consider it a charitable act.”
“WHAT?” I stared at her, stunned. “What do you mean? You… weren’t you supposed to pay your share?”
A smiling woman talking to her co-worker | Source: Freepik
“Look, life isn’t fair, Rachel,” she shrugged. “You wanted to make a good impression, and we did. Didn’t you see how happy Mr. Johnson was? Isn’t that worth it?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Her selfishness was astounding. “That’s not the point, Emily,” I said, my voice rising. “You promised to pay your half!”
A stern-looking woman | Source: Pexels
She laughed. “Oh, Rachel, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Let it go,” she said and walked away.
I stared at her, anger and frustration bubbling up inside me. Clearly, she had no intention of paying and didn’t care about the impact on me.
So I made up my mind. It was time for some payback.
A confident woman | Source: Pexels
Two days later, I looked into Emily’s schedule and discovered she had a big presentation for the upcoming quarterly meeting. This was crucial for her, and I saw an opportunity.
I began subtly mentioning to a few trusted colleagues that Emily might need ‘help’ with her presentation.
A woman giving a presentation | Source: Pexels
Word spread quickly, and soon everyone offered her ‘suggestions’ and ‘feedback.’ The result? The conflicting advice overwhelmed her, and I could see her becoming more stressed. She did manage to give the presentation, but it was a huge mess.
I wasn’t done yet, though.
A sad-looking young woman | Source: Midjourney
One day, while having lunch in the break room, I overheard Emily bragging about a meeting with a potential big client. She sat at the table, surrounded by a few colleagues, her voice full of confidence.
“This client is huge,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “If I close this deal, I’m sure to get a promotion. Mr. Johnson will be so impressed.”
Co-workers around a table | Source: Pexels
I listened quietly, my mind already plotting. After lunch, I returned to my desk and found the client’s contact information.
I crafted an anonymous email, attaching screenshots of Emily’s rude social media comments.
A person using their laptop | Source: Unsplash
“I felt it was important to inform you about some unethical behavior by Ms. Richards who is scheduled to meet with you,” I wrote in the mail to the client. “Please see the attached screenshots of her social media posts, which include rude and unprofessional comments.
Sincerely,
A Concerned Individual.”
A Gmail screen | Source: Unsplash
A few days later, Emily’s face was pale as she entered the office.
“The client canceled the meeting,” she told a colleague. “They said it was due to ‘unforeseen circumstances.’ I don’t know what went wrong!”
A stressed woman | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry to hear that, Emily,” the colleague replied. “That must be tough.”
Emily sighed and walked away, clearly distressed. Only I knew how hard it was to contain my laugh. But even after going through so much, Emily wouldn’t mend her ways.
A laughing woman at workplace | Source: Unsplash
She started spreading rumors that she had single-handedly bought the watch for Mr. Johnson. Had she guessed I was behind her canceled meeting and failed presentation? I didn’t know. But I wouldn’t let her succeed.
So, I printed out our email exchange where she promised to pay her half and placed copies on the desks of key people in our department, including HR. The next day, whispers filled the office as people read the emails.
A woman using a printer | Source: Pexels
“Can you believe this?” one colleague said, showing the email to another. “Emily promised to pay her half for the watch.”
“Unbelievable,” the other replied. “She’s been taking all the credit.”
Emily’s popularity plummeted, and she looked more stressed than ever. I decided to take it one step further.
A stressed woman at work | Source: Pexels
Creating a fake online persona as a headhunter from a prestigious company, I sent Emily a message.
“To: [email protected]
Subject: Exciting Job Opportunity
Dear Ms. Richards,” I typed.
A person typing on their laptop | Source: Unsplash
“We have been following your impressive work and would love to discuss a potential job opportunity with you at our prestigious firm. We believe you would be a perfect fit for our team. Please let us know if you are available for an interview this Thursday at 10 AM.
Best regards,
Linda J.
Executive Recruiter, El.T.Search.”
An excited female employee | Source: Midjourney
Emily’s eyes lit up as she read the email. She ran over to the desk beside me, her excitement barely contained.
“You won’t believe this! I just got an email from a top headhunter. They want to interview me for a high-level position!”
“That’s amazing, Emily!” Stacey, my co-worker, said. “You should definitely go for it.”
A smiling woman chatting with her co-worker | Source: Freepik
Emily called in sick on the day of the fake interview, completely convinced it was real. She dressed in her best business attire and left the house early to be there on time.
The next day, she returned to the office and I overheard her talking to Stacey. “There was no interview,” she said sadly. “I showed up, and no one knew who I was.”
A sad woman | Source: Midjourney
“That’s so strange, Emily. Maybe it was some sort of mistake?”
Emily nodded slowly, still in shock. “Maybe…”
Hardly had she finished talking when Mr. Johnson approached her.
“Emily, we need to talk. Please come into my office,” he said sternly.
A serious-looking man in a suit | Source: Pexels
Emily’s confidence visibly shook. She followed him, her face pale. I stayed at my desk, straining to hear the conversation from behind my computer.
“Emily, I’ve received some concerning information,” Mr. Johnson began, his tone firm. “Can you explain why our client canceled their meeting with you?”
An older man in professional attire | Source: Midjourney
“I-I don’t know, sir. They said it was due to unforeseen circumstances.”
Mr. Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Unforeseen circumstances? Or could it be because they received an email with screenshots of your unprofessional social media comments?”
A female employee talking to her boss | Source: Midjourney
Emily gasped. “What? No, I… I didn’t think… I mean, those were private posts!” she gasped, staring at a tablet screen. Maybe Mr. Johnson was showing her the mail.
“They may have been, but they reflect poorly on you and this company,” Mr. Johnson said sharply. “And there’s more. I’ve been hearing rumors that you claimed to have bought the watch for me single-handedly. Is that true?”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Emily’s face turned pale. Her silence said it was true.
“Emily, this behavior is unacceptable. You’ve been manipulating situations and lying to your colleagues. This ends now. You are being demoted, effective immediately. One more misstep and you will be terminated!” Mr. Johnson declared.
A box labelled “FIRED” | Source: Pexels
Emily emerged from the office, looking defeated. That same day, in a team meeting, Mr. Johnson took off the expensive watch and held it up for everyone to see.
“This gift was meant to symbolize teamwork and appreciation,” he began, “but given the circumstances, I think it’s only fair to return it.”
A happy boss and employee | Source: Midjourney
He then walked over to me and handed me the watch. “I believe this was more of your contribution. Please, you keep it,” he said.
Emily turned beet red as everyone watched. Her scheme had backfired spectacularly, and my efforts to expose her had paid off.
And that was how I got my ultimate petty revenge on a two-faced colleague.
A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
My Husband Made a Schedule to ‘Improve’ Me as a Wife — I Taught Him a Valuable Lesson Instead
I was stunned when my husband, Jake, handed me a schedule to help me “become a better wife.” But instead of blowing up, I played along. Little did Jake know, I was about to teach him a lesson that would make him rethink his newfound approach to marriage.
I’ve always prided myself on being the level-headed one in our marriage. Jake, bless his heart, could get swept up in things pretty easily, whether it was a new hobby, or some random YouTube video that promised to change his life in three easy steps.
But we were solid until Jake met Steve. Steve was the type of guy who thought being loudly opinionated made him right, the type that talks right over you when you try to correct him.
He was also a perpetually single guy (who could have guessed?), who graciously dispensed relationship advice to all his married colleagues, Jake included. Jake should’ve known better, but my darling husband was positively smitten with Steve’s confidence.
I didn’t think much of it until Jake started making some noxious comments.
“Steve says relationships work best when the wife takes charge of the household,” he’d say. Or “Steve thinks it’s important for women to look good for their husbands, no matter how long they’ve been married.”
I’d roll my eyes and reply with some sarcastic remark, but it was getting under my skin. Jake was changing. He’d arch his eyebrows if I ordered takeout instead of cooking, and sigh when I let the laundry pile up because, God forbid, I had my own full-time job.
And then it happened. One night, he came home with The List.
He sat me down at the kitchen table, unfolded a piece of paper, and slid it across to me.
“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice dripping with a condescending tone I hadn’t heard from him before. “You’re a great wife, Lisa. But there’s room for improvement.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Oh really?”
He nodded, oblivious to the danger zone he was entering. “Yeah. Steve helped me realize that our marriage could be even better if you, you know, stepped up a bit.”
I stared at the paper in front of me. It was a schedule… and he’d written “Lisa’s Weekly Routine for Becoming a Better Wife” at the top in bold.
This guy had actually sat down and mapped out my entire week based on what Steve — a single guy with zero relationship experience — thought I should do to “improve” myself as a wife.
I was supposed to wake up at 5 a.m. every day to make Jake a gourmet breakfast. Then I’d hit the gym for an hour to “stay in shape.”
After that? A delightful lineup of chores: cleaning, laundry, ironing. And that was all before I left for work. I was supposed to cook a meal from scratch every evening and make fancy snacks for Jake and his friends when they came over to hang out at our place.
The whole thing was sexist and insulting on so many levels I didn’t even know where to start. I ended up staring at him, wondering if my husband had lost his mind.
“This will be great for you, and us,” he continued, oblivious.
“Steve says it’s important to maintain structure, and I think you could benefit from —”
“I could benefit from what?” I interrupted, my voice dangerously calm. Jake blinked, caught off guard by the interruption, but he recovered quickly.
“Well, you know, from having some guidance and a schedule.”
I wanted to throw that paper in his face and ask him if he’d developed a death wish. Instead, I did something that surprised even me: I smiled.
“You’re right, Jake,” I said sweetly. “I’m so lucky that you made me this schedule. I’ll start tomorrow.”
The relief on his face was instant. I almost felt sorry for him as I got up and stuck the list on the fridge. Almost. He had no idea what was coming.
The next day, I couldn’t help but smirk as I studied the ridiculous schedule again. If Jake thought he could hand me a list of “improvements,” then he was about to find out just how much structure our life could really handle.
I pulled out my laptop, opened up a fresh document, and titled it, “Jake’s Plan for Becoming the Best Husband Ever.” He wanted a perfect wife? Fine. But there was a cost to perfection.
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I began by listing all the things he had suggested for me, starting with the gym membership he was so keen on. It was laughable, really.
“$1,200 for a personal trainer.” I typed, barely containing my giggle.
Next came the food. If Jake wanted to eat like a king, that wasn’t happening on our current grocery budget. Organic, non-GMO, free-range everything? That stuff didn’t come cheap.
“$700 per month for groceries,” I wrote. He’d probably need to chip in for a cooking class too. Those were pricey, but hey, perfection wasn’t free.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing to myself as I imagined Jake’s face when he saw this. But I wasn’t done. Oh no, the pièce de résistance was still to come.
See, there was no way I could juggle all these expectations while holding down my job. If Jake wanted me to dedicate myself full-time to his absurd routine, then he’d have to compensate for the loss of my income.
I pulled up a calculator, estimating the value of my salary. Then, I added it to the list, complete with a little note: “$75,000 per year to replace Lisa’s salary since she will now be your full-time personal assistant, maid, and chef.”
My stomach hurt from laughing at this point.
And just for good measure, I threw in a suggestion about him needing to expand the house. After all, if he was going to have his friends over regularly, they’d need a dedicated space that wouldn’t intrude on my newly organized, impossibly structured life.
“$50,000 to build a separate ‘man cave’ so Jake and his friends don’t disrupt Lisa’s schedule.”
By the time I was done, the list was a masterpiece. A financial and logistical nightmare, sure, but a masterpiece nonetheless. It wasn’t just a counterattack — it was a wake-up call.
I printed it out, set it neatly on the kitchen counter, and waited for Jake to come home. When he finally walked through the door that evening, he was in a good mood.
“Hey, babe,” he called out, dropping his keys on the counter. He spotted the paper almost immediately. “What’s this?”
I kept my face neutral, fighting the urge to laugh as I watched him pick it up. “Oh, it’s just a little list I put together for you,” I said sweetly, “to help you become the best husband ever.”
Jake chuckled, thinking I was playing along with his little game. But as he scanned the first few lines, the grin started to fade. I could see the wheels turning in his head, the slow realization that this wasn’t the lighthearted joke he thought it was.
“Wait… what is all this?” He squinted at the numbers, his eyes widening as he saw the total costs. “$1,200 for a personal trainer? $700 a month for groceries? What the hell, Lisa?”
I leaned against the kitchen island, crossing my arms.
“Well, you want me to wake up at 5 a.m., hit the gym, make gourmet breakfasts, clean the house, cook dinner, and host your friends. I figured we should budget for all of that, don’t you think?”
His face turned pale as he flipped through the pages. “$75,000 a year? You’re quitting your job?!”
I shrugged. “How else am I supposed to follow your plan? I can’t work and be the perfect wife, right?”
He stared at the paper, dumbfounded.
The numbers, the absurdity of his own demands, it all hit him at once. His smugness evaporated, replaced by a dawning realization that he had seriously, seriously messed up.
“I… I didn’t mean…” Jake stammered, looking at me with wide eyes. “Lisa, I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I just thought —”
“You thought what? That I could ‘improve’ myself like some project?” My voice was calm, but the hurt behind it was real. “Jake, marriage isn’t about lists or routines. It’s about respect. And if you ever try to ‘fix’ me like this again, you’ll be paying a hell of a lot more than what’s on that paper.”
Silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Jake’s face softened, his shoulders slumping as he let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize how ridiculous it was. Steve made it sound sensible, but now I see it’s… it’s toxic. Oh God, I’ve been such a fool.”
I nodded, watching him carefully. “Yes, you have. Honestly, have you looked at Steve’s life? What makes you think he has the life experience to give you advice about marriage? Or anything else?”
The look on his face as my words hit home was priceless.
“You’re right. And he could never afford to live like this.” He slapped the list with the back of his hand. “He… he has no idea about the costs involved, or how demeaning this is. Oh, Lisa, I got carried away again, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but we’ll recover. Now, let’s tear that paper up and go back to being equals.”
He smiled weakly, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah… let’s do that.”
We ripped up the list together, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like we were back on the same team.
Maybe this was what we needed, a reminder that marriage isn’t about one person being “better” than the other. It’s about being better together.
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