After the spoiled heir of the estate he’s tended for decades cruelly fired Arthur, the humiliated gardener visited one special garden one last time. As he reminisced, Arthur noticed something strange, leading him to make a life-changing discovery.
I was on my knees in the east garden, hands deep in the cool soil, when Margaret from the kitchen staff rushed over, her face flushed with worry.
A woman hurrying through a garden | Source: Midjourney
“Arthur, have you heard? Mr. Stuart is coming home today. He’s taking over everything.”
I nodded slowly, carefully placing another bulb into the ground. “Yes, I heard.”
I’d been dreading this day since old Mr. Jared passed. For years, I’d tended these grounds and watched the seasons change from behind my wheelbarrow, pruning shears in hand.
A wheelbarrow filled with pruned foliage and garden tools | Source: Pexels
This estate knew my footprints better than any place on earth. And now Stuart was coming home to claim his inheritance.
“What will happen to us?” Margaret asked, her voice small against the vastness of the estate.
“We do our jobs,” I said simply. “That’s all we can do.”
A man transplanting a young plant | Source: Pexels
What I didn’t say was how my heart ached when I thought about Jared. He wasn’t just my employer — he was my friend.
We’d spent countless hours working side by side in the small garden behind the main house. There, among the climbing roses and stubborn weeds, we’d shared stories, silence, and laughter.
“Grandpa, I finished my homework. Can I help with the planting?”
A teen boy smiling at someone | Source: Midjourney
Eli, my 14-year-old grandson, stood at the garden’s edge.
Since the accident two years ago that took my daughter and her husband, Eli had been my reason for waking up each morning. He was polite, studious, and hungry for books in a way that amazed me.
“Sure, come on over. We’re putting in the spring bulbs.”
Plastic crates filled with bulbs and plants | Source: Pexels
We worked in comfortable silence until the sound of tires on gravel broke through the morning calm. A sleek car pulled up to the main house and out stepped Stuart.
“Is that him?” Eli whispered.
I nodded, watching as Stuart surveyed the property. It had been many years since I’d last seen him, but he had the same air of arrogance and entitlement as when he was a rude boy who pulled up the irises to spite me.
A haughty man standing near a luxury car | Source: Midjourney
“Remember what I told you,” I said quietly. “Be respectful, keep your distance, and—”
“Never let anyone make me feel small,” Eli finished. “I remember, Grandpa.”
The first few weeks with Stuart in charge were worse than I’d imagined.
The staff walked on eggshells as he inspected corners for dust and fired people for minor infractions.
A tense cleaner arranging a pair of slippers near a bed | Source: Pexels
Where Jared had been kind and thoughtful, his son was impatient and cruel.
“Arthur, isn’t it?” Stuart asked one afternoon, as though we’d never met before. “The gardener my father was so fond of.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, stopping my work to face him.
“These hedges look uneven. And those roses are half dead,” he declared. “My father may have tolerated mediocrity, but I expect excellence.”
A man examining a hedge | Source: Midjourney
I bit my tongue. “I’ll see to it right away, sir.”
“See that you do.”
As he walked away, I took a deep breath and returned to my pruning. I tried to forget Stuart’s criticism and his pretense at not knowing me, but I was concerned. I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
A man pruning a plant | Source: Pexels
The weeks turned into months, and with each passing day, Stuart’s parties grew louder, and his friends grew more reckless.
They’d roar through the gardens in expensive cars, laughing as they knocked over planters and scattered gravel.
The once peaceful estate became a playground for the rich and careless to party.
People partying | Source: Pexels
One morning in late summer, I was preparing to compost the beds when I heard angry footsteps approaching. Stuart stormed toward me, his face flushed with rage.
“You! Old man!”
My heart sank. Margaret had warned me to steer clear of Stuart that morning. Apparently, his latest gold-digging girlfriend had left him to go skiing in Switzerland, and Stuart was on a rampage.
A man staring at someone with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
I straightened up slowly, my knees creaking in protest. “Good morning, Mr. Stuart.”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me. Did you see what happened to my car? Someone scratched the paint. Was it your grandson? That quiet, sneaky kid?”
“Eli was at school yesterday, sir. He’s been there all week for the summer program.”
“Well, someone did it. And since you’re supposed to be watching this place—”
“I’m the gardener, sir. Not security.”
A man working in a garden | Source: Midjourney
I instantly regretted my words, but it was too late. Stuart’s face contorted with anger.
“You know what? I’ve had enough of your attitude. You think because my father liked you, you’re untouchable? You call this work?” He kicked at a pile of weeds I’d pulled. “My dog could rake better than you! You’re nothing but a leftover from my father’s pity. Consider this your last day. I want you off my property by sunset.”
A shouting man | Source: Midjourney
The words hit hard, but I kept my expression neutral. As he stomped away, I felt a strange calm wash over me. Maybe it was for the best.
I removed my uniform overalls and walked to the garden Jared and I had tended together. I hadn’t touched this spot since Jared died because the memories were too painful.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jared,” I said as I kneeled by the garden. “The least I can do for you before I go is clear away the weeds.”
A man in a garden staring sadly at the plants | Source: Midjourney
As I was working, I noticed a patch of ground that had been disturbed.
It wasn’t recent, but I knew this garden better than the back of my hand and someone had been digging here and left half the bulbs to wither and die on the surface.
I dug into the earth with my hands. Soon, I felt a hard surface beneath my fingers. I cleared away the dirt and soon uncovered a small wooden chest, sealed with a simple latch.
A chest in a hole | Source: Midjourney
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside, neatly arranged, were bundles of cash, small gold bars, and a folded note. I recognized Jared’s handwriting immediately.
“This is for you, friend. I know you need this! I love you. Your friend, Jared.”
Tears fell onto the paper as I clutched it to my chest.
A sad man staring down at something | Source: Midjourney
Even in death, Jared had found a way to look after us. The cruel irony wasn’t lost on me — being fired had led me to this discovery, this last gift from a true friend.
I left the estate without another word to Stuart.
The next day, I went to the bank and opened a safe deposit box. I transferred everything from Jared’s box into it and placed it in Eli’s name. Not for now, but for his future.
Safety deposit boxes | Source: Pexels
I found work maintaining the grounds at the local high school. The pay wasn’t much, but it was honest work, and I could be close to Eli during the day.
Two years passed faster than I expected.
Eli thrived in school — he was top of his class and his teachers were talking about scholarships and potential. He grew taller and stronger but kept his gentle nature and curious mind.
A cheerful teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
“Grandpa, I got accepted into the summer science program,” he announced one evening, waving the acceptance letter.
“That’s wonderful news,” I said, genuinely proud. “Your parents would be so proud of you.”
“Do you think Mr. Jared would be proud too?”
The question caught me off guard. “Yes, I think he would be very proud.”
AN earnest teenage boy | Source: Midjourney
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While we built our new life, news of Stuart’s downfall reached us through Margaret, who still worked at the estate.
His recklessness had finally caught up with him. He lost everything — the estate, the cars, and whatever illusion of control he’d once had.
“They say he’s moving out next week,” Margaret told me when we met for coffee. “The bank’s selling the place.”
The interior of a cozy coffee shop | Source: Pexels
I nodded, feeling no satisfaction in his misfortune. “That’s a shame.”
“A shame? After how he treated you? Arthur, you’re too kind for your own good.”
Perhaps I was. But bitterness was a luxury I couldn’t afford, not with Eli watching and learning from every reaction, every word.
One evening, as Eli and I walked toward the park, he asked me a question that had been on his mind.
A thoughtful teen boy on a city street | Source: Midjourney
“Grandpa, are you ever going to tell me what was in that box you brought from the estate?”
I looked at him — no longer a boy, but not quite a man — and saw in him the future Jared had helped secure.
“When you’re ready,” I said with a small smile. “When the time is right.”
“And when will that be?”
A man and his grandson entering a city park | Source: Midjourney
“When you’ve built a foundation strong enough that it won’t change who you are.” I squeezed his shoulder gently. “Some gifts aren’t meant to be opened right away.”
As we continued our walk, I thought about Jared, about the garden we’d tended together, and about the seeds we plant that grow long after we’re gone. Some in soil, some in souls. Both lasting far beyond what we can see.
My Colleague Suggested We Buy a Joint $2,000 Gift for Our Boss and Now Refuses to Pay Her Share
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?
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