The Fifty-Thousand-Dollar Bill

I rode overnight in the cheapest coach seat I could get to negotiate a deal for the company. Sticking strictly to the company's meal allowance, I treated the client, Caelum Worthington, to a 10-dollar takeout meal. I never expected us to hit it off so well that he started calling me "Bro" on the spot. He took me straight to the most exclusive club in the city and dropped 50,000 dollars on the full VIP treatment. When I returned to the office, I only submitted a few takeout-meal receipts for reimbursement. Then, out of nowhere, my boss, Oscar Richmond, threw the 50,000-dollar bill from the club right in my face. "You went to negotiate with a client, and you let him pay to entertain you? You're openly taking kickbacks, aren't you?" he demanded. Before I could even pull out the 200,000,000-dollar contract I'd just signed, the reprimand notice had already gone out to the entire company. They withheld my entire salary and bonus, then demanded that I repay the 50,000 dollars myself. Otherwise, they said I'd rot in prison for the rest of my life. "That 50,000 dollars was spent because the client was showing the company respect. That makes it a company asset! You embezzled it, so you have to pay back every last cent! Pay up or go to prison. Take your pick." I looked at the greedy, twisted expression on my boss' face and smiled. Right in front of him, I dialed Caelum's number. "Hey, Cael. You got a minute?" "Tonight, the usual spot. Full VIP treatment. It's on me," Caelum replied. Chapter 1 A thick stack of bills slammed into my face. The sharp edges of the paper sliced the corner of my eye, and the cut burned like fire. My boss, Oscar Richmond, the Skinner, stood behind his desk with his face flushed and the veins in his neck bulging. He pointed a finger at my nose and cursed me out. Spit flew from his mouth and nearly landed in mine. "Anson Coleman, do you have any shame left at all? The company sent you on a business trip. Did it send you off to live like some kind of king? "50,000 dollars! You spent 50,000 dollars in one night! "Your monthly salary is only 3,000 dollars. Where did you get the nerve to spend 50,000?" I wiped my face and took a deep breath. I forced down the anger rising in my chest and tried to explain as calmly as I could. "Mr. Richmond, I didn't spend that money. It was the client, Mr. Worthington. He took a liking to me and insisted on treating me. I turned him down at first, but he wouldn't take no for an answer—" The Skinner slammed his hand on the desk so hard that the mugs rattled. "Shut up! You still have the nerve to argue? The client treated you? Who do you think you are? "That man is worth more than 100,000,000 dollars. Why would he take some broke office worker like you to a club like that? He only did it because of the company's reputation! "And if he spent that money because of the company's reputation, then it belongs to the company as an asset! You enjoyed a company asset. That's called misappropriation!" His logic was straight-up robbery taken to the extreme. I stood there stunned, hardly able to believe my own ears. The client had taken me out for dinner and drinks, yet somehow, in the Skinner's mouth, that had turned into me stealing from the company? "Mr. Richmond, people ought to be reasonable. I was on that trip for three days, and to save the company money, I rode coach the entire way in the cheapest seat they had. I stayed in a run-down inn that cost less than 50 dollars a night. "Even when I took the client out to eat, I stuck to the company's spending limit and bought 10-dollar takeout meals. "Do you have any idea how much money I've saved this company?" I would have been better off not mentioning the takeout meals. The moment I did, the Skinner flew into an even greater rage. He yanked a crumpled receipt from his drawer and flung it onto the desk. It was the receipt for the three takeout meals I had expensed, 30 dollars in total. "You still have the nerve to bring that up? You used company money to buy pig slop for a client, and that's how you protect this company's image? "No wonder you went and spent 50,000 dollars at that club. I guess you just wanted to make up for all those cheap meals, is that it? "Anson, I think poverty has driven you out of your mind!" At that moment, the office door swung open. A woman in flashy, provocative clothes sauntered in, her hips swaying with every step. She was the company's finance director and the Skinner's sister-in-law, his wife's younger sister, Lindsey Barinov. Lindsey held a calculator in one hand and rapidly tapped the buttons as a cold, gloating smile spread across her face. "I've run the numbers. This one has been here for two years. In total, he's earned 72,000 dollars in wages. "Deduct the 50,000 dollars for the misappropriation, then add the fines and interest. Not only will he walk away with nothing, but he'll actually owe the company 50,200 dollars." At that, the fat on the Skinner's face quivered, and a greedy smile spread across his face. "Did you hear that, Anson? Either you hand over the 50,200 dollars right now, or I call the police and have you arrested. Then you can spend the next few years in prison." I looked at the conniving pair of relatives, and I could no longer suppress the fury in my chest. This was the company I had worked myself to the bone for over the past two years. This was the company I had ridden all night in a hard coach seat in the dead of winter to protect, all to save a handful of dollars on the fare. None of it had been worth it. My hand slipped into my briefcase and found the contract I had just signed. It was an exclusive supply contract worth 200,000,000 dollars in total. The commission alone would come to 2,000,000 dollars. I had planned to surprise the Skinner with it. Now, there was no need. I withdrew my empty hand from the briefcase. I looked at the Skinner and said coldly, "You won't get a single cent from me, and I'm not going to prison either. But Mr. Richmond, you're going to regret what you did here today." Chapter 2 Lindsay acted as though she had just heard the funniest joke in the world. She covered her mouth with an exaggerated flourish and laughed so hard that her whole body swayed. A sharp, cloying perfume filled the cramped office and turned my stomach. "Oh, please. Regret? Anson, did you forget to take your meds this morning? "You? Some poor kid fresh out of the countryside? What could you possibly do to make my brother-in-law regret anything? "Those cheap clothes from some street stall? Or that busted-up phone you've been using for three years?" She walked up to me and jabbed a manicured finger into my chest. Each jab landed harder than the last. Her nail was sharp, and it stung like hell. "Let me tell you something. Don't push your luck. "Mr. Worthington's secretary sent that 50,000-dollar bill straight to the company inbox. The evidence is airtight! "If you don't pay up, do you really think I won't have someone strip you down and toss you out of here right now?" I swatted her hand away. "Don't touch me!" Lindsay let out a shriek like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on. "You've got some nerve! You dare hit me? Security! Where's security? Where the hell did they crawl off to?" A few security guards, who had clearly been waiting outside for some time, rushed in. These were the same guys I'd never hesitated to offer a cigarette or buy a bottle of water for. Now every one of them looked ready to tear me apart. They gripped rubber batons in their hands and seemed eager to take me down and score some credit for themselves. The Skinner leaned back in his chair, lit a cigarette, and blew out a smoke ring. His eyes brimmed with mockery and contempt. "Anson, I'm giving you one last chance. Sign this promissory note right now. Then get out and find the money. "If I don't see it within three days, I'll have Legal come after you. "By then, that old father and mother of yours farming out in the countryside will probably have to sell their house just to cover your debt, won't they?" The moment the Skinner brought up my parents, my fist clenched and my knuckles cracked. That crossed a line. The Skinner did not notice. If anything, he grew even more pleased with himself. He stood, walked over to me, and looked down at me. "What, you want to hit me? Go on. Hit me right here." He pointed at his fleshy face. "Lay a hand on me, and I'll bankrupt you completely and have you rot in prison for the rest of your life!" My coworkers crowded around the doorway and craned their necks to watch. Not one of them dared step forward and say a single word in my defense. Some even whispered among themselves. "I never liked him anyway. Always acting so honest, and it turns out he's an embezzler." "50,000 dollars, and he actually had the guts to spend it. Wasn't he afraid he'd choke on his own greed?" "People like that belong behind bars." Their vicious words buzzed in my ears like flies. I looked around the room. These were the same coworkers who used to call me "Bro" or "Buddy." Now every one of them seemed eager to kick me while I was down. This company was rotten to the core, from top to bottom. I unclenched my fist and let out a bright, easy smile. My smile sent a chill through the Skinner. "What are you smiling at? Scared out of your mind?" I shook my head and pulled out my phone. "Mr. Richmond, didn't you say this 50,000 dollars was spent because the client respects the company? Didn't you say I wasn't important enough for Mr. Worthington to treat me personally? Then let's settle it right here." The Skinner's brow furrowed, suspicion written across his face. "What are you trying to do? Stop trying to pull some kind of trick!" I ignored him and scrolled straight to the number saved in my contacts under "Worthington." It was Caelum's private number. That day at the club, Caelum had drunk too much and insisted that we become sworn brothers. He told me I was a genuine person and that there weren't many young men these days who would save their company money, treat a client to a takeout meal, and still be so straightforward about it. He said the kind of man I was had convinced him to go through with the deal. My finger hovered over the call button as I looked at the Skinner. "Mr. Richmond, what happens if I prove that Mr. Worthington spent that money on me personally?" The Skinner let out a scornful laugh, his face full of contempt. "Treat you personally? Take a good look at yourself before you say something like that. If you actually manage to prove it, I'll eat my own hat. "If you can prove it, I'll pay the 50,000 dollars myself and double your salary on top of that! But if you can't prove it, you'll crawl out of this office today!" "Fine!" I barked. I slammed my finger down on the Call button and switched on the speakerphone in the same motion. The phone rang and rang as the office fell dead silent. Everyone held their breath and waited for me to humiliate myself. The Skinner's cold smile spread wider across his face. Lindsay crossed her arms and settled in as though she were about to enjoy a show. Just as the call was about to disconnect, someone answered. Chapter 3 Noise crackled through the other end of the line, as if he were out on a golf course. "Hello? Who is this?" The voice was deep and rich, with a trace of impatience. The moment the Skinner heard it, his expression shifted slightly. But he quickly composed himself. He had convinced himself that I'd hired someone to play a part, that this was all some kind of act. After all, how could a man as important as Caelum Worthington possibly have my private number and answer so quickly? I cleared my throat and spoke in an easy, relaxed tone. "Hey, Cael, it's me, Anson." The other end of the line went silent for a second. Then the impatience vanished from his voice, replaced by instant warmth and unmistakable excitement. There was even a note of surprise. "Oh, hey! Bro! What made you think to call me right now? Is there a problem with the contract? Or did you finally come around and decide you want to work for me? "Let me tell you, yesterday's drinks weren't nearly enough. I'm seriously impressed by how much liquor you can hold!" The whole room fell dead silent. The Skinner's cigarette dropped onto his pants and burned a hole clean through the fabric, but he didn't even notice. Lindsay's jaw nearly hit the floor. My coworkers crowded around the doorway to watch the show, their eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Cael? That Caelum Worthington? The man worth several million dollars, whom even the city's top officials had to treat with respect? He was calling me his bro? He was even asking if I wanted to jump ship and work for him? The Skinner's face turned a deep purplish red. He scrambled forward in a panic and lunged for the phone in my hand. "Fake!" he shouted incoherently. "This has to be fake! It's a recording! It's a scam!" I sidestepped his greasy, pudgy hand. I spoke into the phone. "Cael, there's something I want to ask you. That 50,000 dollars you spent at the club last time? My boss insists I misappropriated it. "He says you only spent it out of respect for the company. Now he wants me to pay it back, and he's threatening to call the police and have me thrown in prison." The other end of the line went silent. Then an earsplitting roar erupted from the phone. Even through the speaker, everyone could feel the fury behind it. "That is complete bullshit! Respect for his company? Richmond the Skinner doesn't have a shred of respect coming to him! "I spent that money because I saw that you were a genuine person, and I treated you like my own brother! "Who the hell does he think he is? He's not even worth me spending 50,000 dollars! "Bro, put it on speaker and let that son of a bitch hear every word of this!" I gave the phone a small shake as a cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Cael, it's been on speaker this whole time. He's standing right here." By now, the Skinner was drenched in sweat, his whole body trembling. He knew that voice far too well. It was Caelum Worthington. The real thing, right down to that infamous temper. His face had gone deathly pale. He called out toward the phone, his voice shaking, "M-Mr. Worthington, this is a misunderstanding. It's all a misunderstanding… It's me, Little Richmond. We've met before, at that gala—" "Get lost!" a furious voice roared from the phone. "Who the hell has a misunderstanding with you? Oscar, you blind piece of trash! He brought you back a 200,000,000-dollar order, and instead of treating him right, you have the nerve to shake him down over 50,000 dollars? Do you have shit for brains?" That single sentence hit the office like a bomb. After all, that was a 200,000,000-dollar order! Every eye in the room snapped toward my worn, battered briefcase. The Skinner's legs gave out completely, and he collapsed onto the floor. He stared up at me in disbelief, his lips trembling. "200,000,000? Anson, you... You actually signed it?" I ignored his shock and continued speaking into the phone. "Cael, it looks like I can't stay at this company any longer. Someone here said poverty had driven me out of my mind and called me an embezzler. He even said he was going to have me rot in prison. "I'll wire you back the 50,000 dollars right now so I don't actually end up a criminal." Caelum immediately panicked. "No, no, no! Bro, that's like slapping me right in the face! I spent that money because I wanted to. What the hell does that son of a bitch have to do with it? "Where are you? Still at that dump of a company? I'm coming over right now! "I want to see who has the guts to lay a hand on a sworn brother of Caelum Worthington! Sounds like that man is tired of living!" With that, the call ended with a click. Only the dull drone of the dial tone remained in the silent office. I put my phone away and looked down at the Skinner, who was still sprawled on the floor. Then I glanced at Lindsay. Her face had drained of all color. "Mr. Richmond, did you hear all that clearly? Do you still want me to pay up? Do you still want to call the police?" I asked. The Skinner looked as if someone had ripped every bone from his spine. He stared at me in a daze, then suddenly crawled toward me like a dog and wrapped both arms around my leg. "Anson... No, Coleman! Mr. Coleman! I was wrong! I had eyes but failed to recognize the great man standing right in front of me! "Please, be the bigger man and don't hold this against someone as insignificant as me. Whatever you do, don't tell Mr. Worthington! "If this 200,000,000-dollar deal falls through, the company is finished!" I kicked him away in disgust. "Don't touch me. You're filthy. Weren't you plenty tough a minute ago? Weren't you going to strip me down and throw me out?" I glanced at the security guards nearby. They were so terrified that their batons slipped from their hands. One by one, they shrank back. Lindsay finally snapped out of her stupor. She shrieked and lunged at me, reaching for my briefcase, "The contract! That contract belongs to the company! You can't take it! That's company property!" Her nails came straight for my face. My eyes turned cold. I backhanded her across the face with a sharp, resounding slap. I had been holding that slap back for a long time. Chapter 4 The slap's force sent Lindsay spinning before she crashed to the floor. Half her face swelled almost instantly, puffing up like a balloon. She clutched her cheek and stared at me in disbelief. "You... You dare hit me? I'm the finance director! I'm the boss' sister-in-law! You're just a worthless little worker! You're dead!" Her hair had come loose and hung wildly around her face as she screamed like a madwoman, "Oscar! You're just going to stand there and watch him hit me? Are you even a man? Kill him!" The Skinner snapped back to attention at her screams. But by then, he had no room left in his head to worry about his sister-in-law getting slapped. His mind was completely consumed by the 200,000,000-dollar order and Caelum, who could come tearing through the door at any moment. He scrambled to his feet without even bothering to brush the dust from his clothes. He hurried toward me with a fawning expression, his entire posture bent low and servile. "Good hit! Good hit! That woman needed to be put in her place. She runs her mouth way too much! "Manager Coleman! Vice President Coleman! As long as you leave the contract with me, we can wipe the slate clean and forget everything that happened. "The company will cover that 50,000 dollars. No, I'll cover it myself! Personally! I'll promote you to VP right now. 500,000 dollars a year... No, 1,000,000 dollars! "You signed this contract, so I'll double your commission to 2%! "What do you say, Mr. Coleman? That comes out to 4,000,000 dollars!" The Skinner held up several carrot-thick fingers and waved them in front of my face. He was trying to buy me off. The moment my coworkers heard that number, their breathing quickened. In a small city like this, 4,000,000 dollars was enough to buy two villas. Every pair of eyes on me changed. The contempt from moments ago vanished, replaced by envy and longing. Some of them even started chiming in on the Skinner's behalf. "Anson, Mr. Richmond is showing real sincerity here. Just say yes." "Yeah, we're all coworkers here. There's no need to make things this ugly." "That's millions of dollars. Take the money and live well." I swept a cold gaze across the crowd of fair-weather cowards. All I felt was disgust. A minute ago, they had practically wished me straight into a prison cell. Now that they saw some value in me, they suddenly wanted to talk about friendship? I calmly straightened my collar, which someone had yanked crooked, then patted my briefcase. "Mr. Richmond, there's something you may have misunderstood. This contract contains an additional clause. If you don't believe me, take a look at the copy." I pulled a photocopy from the case and let it fall against his face. The Skinner fumbled to catch it, his eyes widening as he read. The moment he reached the special provision at the bottom, his face turned as white as paper. [This contract designates Mr. Anson Coleman as the project's lead officer. Should Mr. Anson Coleman leave the company or be reassigned from this position during the project period, Party A reserves the right to unilaterally terminate the contract, and Party B shall be liable for a breach-of-contract penalty of 50,000,000 dollars.] "Do you see it clearly now?" I asked coldly. "Cael had this contract drawn up specifically for me. Without me, this contract is nothing but a worthless piece of paper. In fact, it's worse than that. It's a death warrant hanging over this entire company." The Skinner's hands shook as if he had Parkinson's. The photocopy rattled in his grip. He finally understood. The man standing before him was no longer some soft target he could squeeze however he pleased. I was the man who now held his life in my hands. He could sell everything he owned, including himself, and still not cover the 50,000,000 dollars in penalties. But the shamelessness baked into his bones soon resurfaced. If the soft approach would not work, he would try the hard one. The Skinner's eyes turned vicious. He shot the security guards a sharp look. "Block the door! Nobody leaves!" The guards hesitated, but the murderous look on the Skinner's face made them steel themselves and block the doorway anyway. The Skinner dropped the act completely and bared his fangs. "Anson, don't push your luck. Do you really think Caelum would go to war with me over some low-level sales rep like you? "Once a contract is signed, it belongs to the company! As for that clause, I have plenty of ways to make it void. "All I have to do is keep you here, force you to sign a voluntary resignation statement, or simply make you disappear for a few days... "I refuse to believe Caelum would tear up a deal over some man who went missing!" He advanced on me one step at a time, his face twisted with malice. "Hand over the contract! Otherwise, you're not walking out of here on your own two feet today!" The coworkers around us backed away in fear, terrified that they might end up splattered with blood. Lindsay climbed back to her feet and shouted viciously, "Break his legs! Let's see him run then! Snap his fingers off one by one! Let's see him sign any contracts after that!" I looked at the security guards closing in and then at the Skinner's murderous face. I did not feel even a flicker of panic. Instead, I pulled a voice recorder from my pocket and gently pressed the stop button. The red indicator light went dark. I gave the recorder a small shake, then flashed the Skinner a faint smile. "Mr. Richmond, that was quite a performance. If I hand that last part over to the police, do you think they'd call it unlawful detention and extortion?"