Begging The Top Seller To Save My Failing Engagement

I was the rainmaker, the top-performing sales executive who brought in eight figures for the company. She fired me, flat out, just because I didn’t drop a “fire” emoji on her latest selfie in the all-hands Slack channel. Then she handed my territory—and my corner office—to her useless cousin. It wasn’t until the company’s sales revenue tanked to absolute zero that she finally showed up at my door. “Please,” she sobbed, “I’m begging you, come back. My fiancé says if you don’t return, he’ll dump me.”

1 Johnson—my boss, the company founder—had left for a month-long trip, leaving his new fiancée in charge. I should have known she’d be looking for trouble. A spoiled trophy like Tiffany is always searching for a new victim. I walked into the office right at ten, my usual time. My flex-time arrangement was an unspoken rule, a perk I’d earned a hundred times over. Reggie, one of my team leads, met me by the elevator. His face was tight. “Tiffany’s here. She wants you in Johnson’s office—now.” Tiffany. Her full name was Tiffany Grant, and she was notorious for her poisonous venom and over-the-top entitlement. She once made a female colleague’s life a living hell—spreading vile rumors after the poor woman spent an extra ten minutes briefing Johnson on a contract. She drove the colleague, Zoe, right out of the building. Johnson usually just let Tiffany vent, indulging her until her petty tantrums subsided. Now, she had set her sights on me. I put down my coffee and pushed open the door. Before I could even take a step, a heavy file hit me square in the forehead. “Do you have any idea what time it is, Blake? Office hours start at eight! Why are you strolling in at ten?” A sharp edge of the folder sliced my skin, leaving a thin line of blood above my eyebrow. I pressed my hand against it, staring at Tiffany, who was perched behind Johnson’s enormous mahogany desk like a bird of prey. Everyone in this building, including her, knew I came in at ten. It was a deal I’d negotiated years ago. Back when Johnson’s company was hemorrhaging money and facing bankruptcy, he had accidentally hired me. I had single-handedly hauled his business out of the red in the first three months. Since then, I’d been his unofficial co-pilot, the foundation of his operation. “Look at the swipe-in logs,” she snarled, slapping the desk. “You’ve clocked in at ten a.m. for a solid month! You think you’re above the rules?” She leaned forward, her face contorted into something vicious. “Company policy: three consecutive late arrivals is grounds for termination. Get out. You’re fired.” I couldn’t believe her audacity. “You’re firing me? Did you clear this with Johnson?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm. I generated nearly eighty percent of the company’s profit. She was insane. Tiffany scoffed. “And what are you? A glorified order-taker? A pushy salesman? I can fire you if I want to.” She puffed out her chest. “This is my fiancé’s company. I’m the lady of the house here. I do what I please.” I genuinely liked Johnson, and I felt a sense of loyalty to the company I’d built. I didn’t want to leave on such a petty, destructive note. I sat down on the leather sofa. “Why don’t you call him and get his opinion first?” Tiffany rolled her eyes dramatically, then grabbed the phone. She dialed Johnson. “What is it?” Johnson’s voice sounded weary, even through the speaker. The shrew who had just been screaming at me instantly became saccharine-sweet. “Babe, I miss you. And honey, I just wanted to tell you I’m cleaning up the place.” Johnson sighed. “Just spit it out, Tiffany.” She shot me a smug look. “There’s a sales guy who constantly ignores the rules, always showing up late. I want to cut him loose.” “Whatever. Handle it. I need to get some sleep.” Johnson hung up. Tiffany slammed the receiver down and smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “You heard him. I can fire whoever I want. Now, get lost.” 2 I gave her a slow, cold smile. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” “Johnson might be upset when he finds out you’ve just destroyed his main revenue stream.” I genuinely tried to warn her. Headhunters had been calling me for years with offers that dwarfed my current salary. I’d stayed out of respect for Johnson. My departure wouldn’t hurt me one bit. It would annihilate her. Tiffany glared, her features pinched and ugly. “Who do you think you are? A salesman? I am Johnson’s future wife and the mistress of this company. Who do you think he’ll choose?” I shook my head. Fine. If that’s how she wanted to play it. I walked out of the office. The staff had heard the shouting, and all eyes were on me. “Boss, what happened?” Reggie asked, his face pale. I calmly started packing my personal items from my desk. “What happened? I got canned.” Reggie’s jaw dropped. “She’s lost her mind! You’re Johnson’s golden boy! Doesn’t she know he’ll end their engagement over this?” I tossed a framed photo of my dog into a box. “That’s her problem, Reggie. She made the decision; she gets to own the consequences. Honestly, I’ve had enough runway to take a long vacation. This might be the break I needed.” I’d been ready for early retirement for a long time but felt too guilty to leave Johnson in a lurch. Reggie was furious. “But why, Boss? What did you do to her?” I frowned, thinking back. “The last straw? Probably when I spoke up for Zoe after Tiffany smeared her. She’s been looking for a fight ever since.” I paused. “Oh, and yesterday she posted a glamour shot in the main communication channel, and I was the only person who didn’t reply with a heart-eyes emoji.” “A selfie? Are you serious?” Reggie groaned. “The ultimate sin, apparently.” “Look, I’m calling Johnson right now,” Reggie insisted. “You are the backbone of this company. You can’t just walk away.” I put a hand on his arm. “Don’t. If I come back, it’ll be after Johnson dumps that idiot. I can’t work under her. It’s time for a break.” I finished packing and headed to the finance department. My ten days of work this month, including pro-rated commissions, came to about eighteen thousand dollars. I told the payroll clerk I’d been terminated and asked her to process my final check. That’s when Tiffany stormed in. “Blake! I told you to get out! What are you doing in finance? These are sensitive company files! Get out or I’m calling the cops!” I tightened my jaw and pulled my arm free from her grasp. “Get your hands off me.” “I was fired. I’m collecting my wages. I’m not even asking for the severance package Johnson owes me.” Tiffany looked at the young clerk. “What’s his final pay?” “Eighteen thousand, five hundred dollars,” the clerk stammered. Tiffany’s eyes went wide. “What? That much?” She pointed a long, manicured finger at me. “You violated company policy! You were late! You forfeit your wages!” I gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Tardiness is a two-hundred-dollar fine. How did you get to zero? Did you fail elementary school math?” Tiffany crossed her arms, completely unashamed. “New rule. Effective immediately. Three late arrivals, you lose the whole month. Now get out!” 3 “You have no authority to set company policy.” “Oh, I do,” she said, practically licking her lips. “This company is partially mine now. I can do whatever I want.” I wasn’t going to stand there and argue. “Fine. Expect to be served with papers. I’ll see you in court.” I walked out, drove home, and dumped my belongings on the floor. As I was disconnecting my work accounts, I saw a new message from Tiffany in the company group chat: “From now on, all my messages in Slack or text must be replied to immediately. Failure to reply will result in the same disciplinary action as the person fired today.” It was confirmation. The root of all this was a lack of validation and a thirst for control. Johnson had signed his own professional death warrant by giving this woman a badge. She wanted a fight? She was going to get one. I pulled up my personal contacts. Every major client I had ever brought to the company was stored in my phone. I wrote a simple mass text: FYI: I’ve officially parted ways with the firm and am currently figuring out my next move. Business is personal, and I appreciate your past loyalty. Most of these clients did business with the company because of me, not the name on the door. If I walked, they would follow. Sure enough, my phone blew up. Texts and calls flooded in, asking where I was going and if I’d take their contracts with me. I spent the rest of the evening replying, explaining I was taking a break but would let them know when I was back in the game. It was exhausting. I finally fell asleep with my phone still buzzing. The next morning, Reggie’s text was waiting. “Boss, the sky is falling. Half our major partners are calling to terminate contracts. Did you do this?” I smiled, stretching in bed. “I did nothing but tell them the truth: that I’d left.” “You are a legend, Boss. Tiffany came in raging this morning, screaming at every sales rep for losing clients. Now half the remaining reps are threatening to quit because they ‘can’t take her petty bullshit.’” It was clear that Tiffany had zero authority or respect. She was alienating everyone. I started the process of contacting a lawyer. I didn’t need the eighteen thousand dollars, but I needed her to suffer for it. A few days later, my phone rang. It was Tiffany. “What is it?” I answered, my voice flat. She didn’t waste any time. “Blake! You absolute snake! Where are the client contacts? They all say you have them! Hand over those numbers now! That’s company property! I’ll sue you!” I laughed, a sharp, cold sound. She was panicking. 4 “Those clients were established through my personal network and countless hours of market research. They only trust me. Why should I give them to you?” She completely unraveled. “Did Johnson pay you good money just to sit on your ass? That was your job! You’re a total backstabber! My fiancé paid you a fortune all those years, and now you steal his clients? You’re an ungrateful piece of trash!” “You want the numbers?” I said, cutting her off. “Fine. I’ll send you the spreadsheet. Let’s see how many you can talk back into the fold.” It was a power play. The contact information was useless without the established relationship. I hung up, emailed the list to Reggie, and told him to give it to Tiffany. The next day, Reggie sent me a video clip. He’d secretly recorded Tiffany trying to call one of my largest corporate clients. I watched as she tried—and failed—to intimidate them. “Did that scumbag Blake pay you to say that? You’re all in it together! How much did he give you?” she screeched into the phone. “If you won’t buy, then get lost! See where else you can go!” She slammed the phone down and threw the office cell across the room. “I don’t care if those clients walk! We’ll get new ones! All of you, hit the pavement! Bring me five new leads today! Or you’re all fired!” A wave of defeated groans went through the office. We sold large industrial equipment; landing one lead a month was a good week. Tiffany’s eyes bulged. “What? Are you planning a mutiny?” Arthur, one of the most respected senior salesmen, stepped forward. “Maybe Johnson should be the one running things, Tiffany. You don’t understand the operation. You’re going to run the company into the ground.” Tiffany sneered at him. “A failure like you doesn’t get to lecture me! If you can’t hit your target, you’re useless! Get out!” Arthur, a dignified man, flushed dark red. He calmly took off his ID badge and dropped it on the desk. “I can’t. Find someone who can.” One by one, the rest of the veteran sales team followed suit, tossing their badges onto the desk. Tiffany burst into maniacal laughter. “Fine! Fine! Mutiny, is it? I don’t need any of you deadbeats! Get out! All of you!” The video ended with the veteran sales team filing out of the office. Reggie’s text followed: “Johnson is coming home to a crater. The whole company is imploding.” I had to laugh. Tiffany was sprinting down the road to self-destruction. Who fires their entire experienced sales staff? That afternoon, I heard a knock. I opened the door to find Arthur and a group of my former colleagues standing outside, looking sheepish but hopeful. 5 I quickly ushered them in, pouring water and coffee. “What brings all you gentlemen to my place?” Arthur spoke, his voice heavy. “It’s Tiffany. She did something truly low. She called our key competitors and told them we were all ‘unhireable liabilities.’ She’s trying to blacklist us from the entire industry.” A hot wave of protective anger washed over me. “That vile woman! How dare she!” “Now the guys are stuck. They all have families, mortgages. If we can’t find work, we have to change professions. We came to you, Boss. You’re the only one we’d follow.” The men around the room nodded desperately. I felt the weight of their livelihoods on my shoulders. Arthur must have sensed my hesitation. “Don’t worry, Blake. If you don’t want to get back in the game, we understand. We’ll figure something out.” Looking at their earnest faces, a surge of adrenaline hit me. A challenge. An opportunity. “No,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I’ll take the lead. We’re going independent. From today, we’re a boutique consulting and sales firm. We don’t need Johnson’s name. And we don’t need to go back until that woman is long gone.” The relief in the room was palpable. I immediately put the team to work finding new suppliers. I contacted all my clients again, promising the same service, but better pricing. Since we were now only taking a commission, we were leaner and faster. It worked instantly. Within a week, we had secured numerous new contracts. The suppliers quickly caught wind of our client list and started coming to us. The team was stunned by the volume of business we were doing—it was far more profitable than the meager commissions we used to earn. Former colleagues still at the old company heard about our success and started defecting. Reggie was the main source of updates. “You won’t believe the clown show over here,” Reggie messaged. “Tiffany brought in her cousin, her aunt, and her uncle as ‘sales executives.’ They treat the office like a day spa, ordering everyone around. They haven’t made a single sale since you left. They just sit there, demanding we fetch them lattes.” I shook my head. “An entire business destroyed by one idiot.” “And the best part? Johnson still has no idea. Tiffany calls him every day, promising everything is ‘fine, business as usual.’” “Normal, my ass,” Reggie scoffed in a follow-up voice memo. “They are definitely up to something. The day I quit, I heard Tiffany talking to her relatives.” Reggie then mimicked a conversation he’d overheard. Tiffany sounding nervous: “I’m worried about Johnson finding out. What if he blames me?” Her uncle’s voice: “Then we’ll say he mistreated you. You’re a sweet girl. He can’t just run around sleeping with you and throwing you out like last week’s trash.”