My company was facing a temporary cash flow issue, and the construction payout we owed had to be delayed by a month. I called in the girl I had been financially sponsoring for years. She was the crew foreman's daughter, working as an intern at my company after graduation. I told her gently, "I won't be able to make the transfer on time this round. It might be delayed by a month. Please give your dad a heads-up so he doesn't worry." But the very next day, the workers trashed my office. They screamed, "You swore up and down we'd get paid, and now the project's done, you claim you're broke!" I looked at the girl. Crying, she said, "All I know is the company is out of money right now and you can't pay. I can't lie to them. This is about my personal integrity." 1 My office was completely trashed by the workers. I had just gotten back from a business trip and walked through my front door when I got the news. By the time I rushed back to the company, my office was a disaster zone. They couldn't break the heavy mahogany desks, so they had just shoved them out of place. Smaller things—mugs, folders—lay shredded and shattered across the carpet. Computer monitors were smashed into jagged spiderwebs, scattered everywhere. The moment everyone saw me, it was like they found their anchor. My employees rushed toward me. "We couldn't stop them, Ms. Vance. All three security guards got beaten up." "They smashed my laptop, too. All my data was on it." "A whole week of number-crunching, completely down the drain." …… Before I could even speak, people started pouring out of my office. A dense crowd of dozens of men, swarming toward us like a dark, aggressive storm cloud. They had come straight from the construction site. They were still wearing their hard hats, their flannels and boots splattered with dried cement. They had been working under me for three years. In my memory, they had always been cheerful, simple, and hardworking folks. Now, their faces were hardened with rage. Some were even gripping crowbars and shovels. I couldn't fathom what could possibly justify this kind of violence. A second later, one of the workers answered my unspoken question. Taking a massive stride forward, he yelled, "So you're just not gonna pay us?!" He reached out to grab my arm but was swiftly blocked by the staff standing around me. Pinned to the ground, he still struggled, reaching out for me with wild eyes, looking like he would tear me apart just to get an answer. His actions instantly ignited the fury of my own employees. "You really trying to hit our boss?!" "You think we won't fight back just because we haven't thrown a punch yet?!" The guys on my team instinctively stepped up. The two groups stood locked in a tense, explosive standoff, neither side willing to yield an inch. Only then did the foreman finally step forward. He took a drag from his cigarette, frowned, and bellowed, "Quiet!" The restless workers instantly fell silent. I hadn't interacted with him much. My only real memory of him was visiting his house last year. It was a rundown, two-room cabin. He had bowed repeatedly, thanking me endlessly: "Thank you so much for sponsoring my daughter all these years, Ms. Vance. She only made it to college because of you." Now, he stood up perfectly straight. That timid, grateful image was completely gone. He looked down his nose at me and said, "You told us the second the project wrapped, we'd get our money. Now it's done, and you're saying you're broke." "If that's not a scam, what is?" 2 The moment the words left his mouth, the rest of the crew echoed him. "Yeah, what is it if not a scam?" "My whole family is counting on that paycheck!" "Scammer! Liar! Fraud!" But I never said I wasn't going to pay. I said it would be delayed by a month, at the absolute latest. Almost instantly, I knew exactly where the miscommunication happened. Suppressing my boiling frustration, I turned to my assistant. "Bring Chloe out here." Hearing his daughter's name, the foreman took another drag of his cigarette. Those eyes locked onto me. "Let's keep things separate. Why are you dragging Chloe into this? We're talking about you withholding our wages." Chloe Henderson arrived quickly. I swallowed my temper and asked, "What exactly did you tell your dad?" The second the question dropped, she burst into tears. "I just said you can't pay them right now." "I can't lie to people. The company accounts are empty." I was so angry I could barely stand. This was an issue that should have been handled by our finance and PR teams, but I trusted her. I thought that if the news came from her, the workers wouldn't panic. That's the only reason I asked her to deliver the message. I had funded her education for five years. She was the foreman's daughter. It was the one task I thought was absolutely foolproof. And yet, she managed to completely butcher the message. She was still crying. The workers all knew her, and a few spoke up to comfort her: "Don't cry, Chloe. We know you're just looking out for us." Gripping the edge of a desk to steady myself, I looked at Chloe, keeping my voice dangerously low. "What exactly did I say to you? I said it would be delayed by a month at most. I said the money would be paid." Through her tears, she argued back, "But you can't pay them right now." "I can't lie. That's a matter of personal integrity." 3 I grabbed the shattered remains of a glass mug next to me. Smash! The glass exploded against the floor, and whatever fragile grip I had on my sanity shattered right along with it. I pointed a shaking finger at Chloe. "Personal integrity?! The entire company is on the hook for your 'integrity'!" "You couldn't even handle one simple task. What did I say, and what did you say? I said I would pay." "How the hell did you translate that?" Chloe sobbed, defending herself, "Just tell me, which part of what I said was a lie?" "Go outside and ask any contractor in Seattle! Who doesn't experience delayed payouts? I asked for one month. One single month!" Blood rushed to my head. I surged forward, raising my hand. For years, I had treated her like a little sister. I never expected her to be this ungrateful and treacherous. Before my hand could fall, her father grabbed my wrist. His eyes widened in fury. "You lay a hand on my daughter?" I yanked my arm free and sneered at the crowd of men. "Our cash flow is tied up right now. But I will pay you. One month, tops." They started muttering to each other. "She's not refusing to pay? Just a month late?" "Our old bosses used to make us wait six months minimum." "A month? That's actually pretty good..." …… They were all from Chloe's hometown. Three years ago, when I first stepped into their rural county, the locals brought me fresh fruit. When Chloe handed me an apple, I noticed dirt caked under her fingernails. Seeing me stare, she awkwardly wiped her hands on her shirt. "I washed them, I promise." Because of that one moment, I made up my mind to help them. The men in her town didn't have specialized skills; they only had their brute strength. I instantly covered their travel and housing expenses and brought them on my payroll. The average daily wage for a laborer in Seattle was $200. I bumped it to $250 for them. I provided iced water in the summer heat and hot catered lunches every day. I personally checked the quality of the food before truckloads were sent to their sites. I never imagined that a mere one-month delay would cause them to bypass a simple question and go straight to destroying my office. Even after I clarified the situation, the tension in the room didn't ease much. "She's lying. She's just trying to buy time to skip town." 4 That sentence was like a drop of water in boiling oil. The momentarily quieted workers instantly erupted again. Amidst the chaos, someone shouted at Chloe, "Chloe! We only trust you. Tell us, is she gonna pay or not?" I stared at Chloe. She sniffled and answered, "Uncle Dan... right now, the company really can't pay." It felt like my chest was stuffed with cotton. The employees surrounding me couldn't take it anymore. "Chloe, just answer this: has Ms. Vance ever missed a payment in three years?" Hundreds of these men had worked for me for three years. The second a project wrapped, I had payroll cut the checks. We were always the fastest payers in the industry. This was the first time a payment was ever delayed, and they instantly turned on me with pure malice. The foreman's eyes locked onto me, and in a split second, he laid down the ultimatum. "Sorry, Ms. Vance. I've got hundreds of mouths to feed. I can't afford to wait." "Either you pay us right now, or we keep tearing this place apart." "We'll sit right outside your front doors. Let's see you try to close any new business with us out there." My vision swam with dark spots. Three years. Even if you feed a stray dog for three years, it won't bite you if you miss a single meal. But just for a one-month delay, they were backing me into a corner. Nobody in the entire city of Seattle treated their crews as well as I did. They were just bullying me because I was a woman, and they had the numbers. I had been up all night working, hadn't eaten breakfast, and now I was dealing with their violent extortion. I could barely stand, but in that moment, total clarity washed over me. If a dog bites, you get a new dog. Especially when ordinary laborers were a dime a dozen in this city. I braced myself against the desk and asked, "How much? Name the number." "$650,000." Seeing my expression shift, he quickly justified it. "Look, we've got hundreds of guys who worked straight through for four months. We all rely on this money to survive." "You have to understand—" I cut him off. "Save it." I took a step forward, and instantly, a group of workers boxed me in, as if terrified I was making a run for it. "I'm going to my office to make some calls." It was only when I stepped inside my private office that I saw just how viciously they had destroyed it. Files were strewn everywhere. My drawers had been yanked out and dumped. Important documents had been ripped to shreds. I waded through the wreckage and stood by my desk. I picked up my phone and started making calls, standing right in the middle of the ruins. "Mr. Davis, it's Jessica. Do you have a minute this afternoon?" "Sarah, hey, I need to ask you a huge favor..." "Brenda, it's me..." …… Twelve phone calls. That's what it took to scrape together the cash. I had never bowed my head to anyone in my life, but today, I bowed it over and over. Through the shattered glass walls of my office, I could see my employees looking down, unable to bear watching me. The workers, however, stared at me with predatory eyes, like wolves waiting to tear a chunk of flesh from my bones. I transferred the money, down to the exact cent, and walked out holding my phone. "Every last penny is there. Check it." 5 The foreman verified the transfer. He looked up and scoffed, "See? You had the money. Why make us go through all this trouble?" I ignored his bait and brought up something else. "The police are on their way. We're tallying up the property damage. You'll be paying for that." They must have anticipated paying for the damages when they started smashing things. Though a few looked angry, nobody said a word. While we waited for the cops, Chloe suddenly spoke up. "Jessica, just let them go. The next project is starting soon, every second they stay here is a loss of money for them." I glanced at Chloe out of the corner of my eye. A few workers thought she made sense and shifted on their feet, ready to leave. My assistant, Emma, seeing how pale I looked, handed me a cup of hot water. I took a sip before I finally spoke. "You don't need to go back to the site." The foreman snapped his head toward me. "What's that supposed to mean, boss?" "You're all fired." Flick. A lighter sparked, and cigarette smoke plumed into the air. Through the haze, the foreman stared at me. "Ms. Vance, we're halfway through the build. Kicking us out now is just bad business, don't you think?" Chloe looked at me pleadingly. "Jessica, they've been with you for three years." Holding my warm cup, I looked her dead in the eye. "You too. You're an adult now. Pack your things and move out of my house tonight." She clamped her mouth shut. In the dead silence, the foreman aggressively threw his half-smoked cigarette onto the floor. "Who the hell do you think you are? People have been trying to poach my crew for months anyway. I quit!" The floor was littered with shredded paper. His cigarette landed right on a pile. A small patch began to smolder, smoke rising quickly. I tilted my cup and poured the hot water directly onto the embers. The water sizzled, instantly drowning out the spark and killing the smoke. I looked the man in the eyes. "Get the hell out." 6 They all left in a hurry. That very night, I stayed up hiring a brand new crew. Because I offered a premium day rate, I filled the roster incredibly fast. The new foreman promised me up and down that there wouldn't be a single hiccup. By the time I finished the paperwork, the sky outside was turning gray with dawn. My house was exactly as I'd left it, which is when I realized Chloe hadn't come home all night. The moment I walked into the company lobby the next morning, Chloe was waiting for me. She handed in her resignation letter and came to say her goodbyes. Uncharacteristically, she was wearing a brand-new designer outfit, the logos loud and flashing. My eyes fell on the bag draped over her arm. An $80,000 Birkin. Bright purple crocodile skin. Not exactly a young girl's aesthetic. Every wealthy, prominent man in Seattle was either a widower who stayed single, or married with kids Chloe's age. I had sponsored her for five years. I watched her transform and grow step by step. No matter how hardened I felt, I couldn't help but ask, "Where did you get the bag?" She stammered, "Jessica, that's really none of your business." None of my business. When she first went to college, I was the one who drove her there. I bought gifts for her roommates so she wouldn't feel left out. Every major choice in her life had my backing. And now, it was none of my business. My face went cold. "I asked, where did it come from?" Seeing me push, she threw caution to the wind. "My boyfriend bought it for me." I pointed right at her. "He buys you something like this, and you don't know what you're going to have to trade for it?" Chloe looked annoyed. "Trade what? He gave it to me because he likes me." Things are never that simple. At her age, buying each other iced coffees was one thing. Dropping eighty grand on a purse meant he wanted something in return. She kept going. "Jessica, you sponsored me all these years so I could make money, right? Well, now I have money." "Do you even know how much this bag, these clothes, cost?" Did I support her for all those years for this? I sponsored her because, years ago, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, "I get good grades. I just want to go to school." Now, she was smugly showing off her designer clothes, asking me, "Do you know how much this costs? It's worth years of my salary." I casually picked up the coffee cup next to me and dumped it directly over her head. It still didn't feel like enough. I grabbed a Sharpie from the desk, seized her bag, and yanked it toward me. "What are you doing?!" She panicked, trying to block me, but the black ink streaked violently across her arm and onto the leather. She completely ignored herself, frantically trying to wipe the ink off the Birkin. "Are you crazy?! What is your problem?!" I ignored her, tossing the marker onto the floor. I walked back to my desk and wrote out a check. My head was pounding. I pressed a hand to my temple and held out the check. She instantly went silent. The sharp clack of her heels echoed in the room. She snatched the check from my hand, placed the ruined Birkin on my desk, and sneered, "Jessica, you really look down on me now, don't you?" I kept my hand to my head and didn't answer. She pressed on, "Everyone has different goals. I don't think I did anything wrong." She actually believed she was right. "Chloe," I said. I forced myself to stand and walked slowly toward her. Ever since they smashed my office, a suffocating anger had been building in my chest. I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Smack! She clutched her cheek just as the office door swung open. No one outside dared to look in. Everyone in the building knew how much I valued Chloe. I had taught her almost everything hands-on. I had been desperate for her to learn the ropes and stand on her own two feet. I had no idea how she had turned into this hollow, greedy shell of a person. Holding her cheek, Chloe let out a cold laugh. "Jessica, every single cent you spent on me all these years, I will wire back into your account. Just you wait." She turned and stormed out. Emma tentatively poked her head in. "Boss, are you okay?" I dragged my feet back to my desk. That scribbled-on Birkin felt like it was mocking me. I grabbed it. With a heavy thud, I chucked it directly into the trash can. At the same time, my vision went completely black, and I collapsed.
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