My Intern’s Bold Demand

Slacking off during work hours—a boss’s prerogative—I was scrolling through a popular jobs forum when a headline caught my eye. [Gen Z Intern Calls Bullshit on the ‘Most Humane’ Company in the City.] The description sounded uncomfortably familiar. I frowned. Just that morning, I’d called a meeting to ask if anyone had issues with our company benefits. Ashley, our newest intern, had stood up. “I don’t think our benefits are comprehensive enough,” she’d announced. “If we’re really aiming to be a ‘humane’ company, we should have fully catered meals, corporate housing, and a daily car service for everyone’s commute.” I already provided a combined monthly stipend of twenty-five hundred dollars for housing and transportation. It was more than enough for anyone to find a decent apartment and cover their commute. So, I shot down her request but offered a compromise: employees could choose between the stipend and a company-leased apartment. I told them to discuss it, come to a consensus, and let me know. I never imagined that later that night, the original poster would update their thread. [UPDATE: The CEO is having a meltdown. She’s threatening to cancel our housing stipends. AVOID FIREFLY INC. AT ALL COSTS.]

1 Seeing those words, I knew for sure. The author was Ashley. Because “Firefly” was the name of my company. The comment section below the post was a wildfire. [WTF! Firefly Inc.? My friend and I were just talking about applying there! I heard the benefits are insane, like a four-day work week!] Ashley’s reply was swift: [You’re so naive. It’s a four-day week, but you’re working until midnight every single one of those days. You’d learn quick.] [No way! Firefly is famous for its perks. My company gives us a two-hundred-dollar transit pass. I bet Firefly’s is closer to two thousand.] Ashley shot back: [And what if you live far from the office? Two grand sounds like a lot, but you can’t buy back the time you waste commuting!] The commenter was instantly swayed, agreeing that she had a point. Then another comment appeared: [I heard a rumor that the CEO of Firefly is some trust-fund baby, just playing at starting a business for fun.] I had no idea where they’d heard that rumor, but they weren’t wrong. My family was rich. Absurdly, ridiculously rich. I could do nothing for the rest of my life and still have enough money to last ten lifetimes. I started this company purely out of boredom. In the beginning, I had no grand ambitions of building an empire. I just wanted to create a truly humane workplace. So I designed the best benefits package I could imagine. A four-day work week—two on, one off, two on, two off. That generous stipend for housing and transit. If an employee was ever in a tight spot, they could get an advance on it. Whenever I felt like having afternoon tea, I ordered it for the entire office. Birthdays and holidays were always celebrated with gifts and surprises. Honestly, I enjoyed planning those things more than the actual work. I could have paid everyone to do nothing and the company would have been fine. But the incredible benefits had an unexpected side effect: my employees felt a deep sense of gratitude. To show their appreciation, they worked harder than I ever could have asked. After three years, not only had I not lost money, but Firefly had become surprisingly profitable. It even shocked my family. That was why I’d kept it going for so long. But the anonymous commenters on the thread didn’t see it that way. [A trust-fund baby? Of course she doesn’t know how to run a company. She’s just LARPing as a CEO!] [The only reason that place hasn’t gone bankrupt is because her daddy’s footing the bill.] [That explains why their benefits are so good, but you never see employees bragging online. Who knows if they’re even real.] [The poster above gets it. Working for a place like that is terrifying. Piss off the wrong rich girl and you’ll be blacklisted from the industry.] A humorless smile touched my lips. Had it ever occurred to them that my employees kept quiet because they didn’t want more competition? Staff turnover at Firefly was practically nonexistent. In three years, I could count the number of people who had voluntarily resigned on one hand. I didn’t reply to the thread. Instead, I copied the link and pasted it into our company-wide group chat. Let’s see how Ashley reacts to this.

2 After I shared the link, the group chat fell silent for a full thirty minutes. The first reply was from Ashley herself. [I wrote the post. So what? I was just raising a valid point for discussion!] She had the right to a discussion. She didn’t have the right to spew complete nonsense. I didn’t bother arguing. I just typed out a single message. [Meeting tomorrow morning, 9 AM sharp. We’re settling this.] I thought I had been perfectly clear earlier in the day. I wasn’t against providing housing. I had asked them to come to a unified decision, and I would make the arrangements. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough. And I had a sinking feeling that while the other employees hadn’t spoken up, they had been swayed. I knew my team. We’d worked together for years. They loved the company culture and they respected me as their boss. Normally, any message I sent to the group chat would be met with a flurry of enthusiastic replies. It was clear Ashley hadn’t just been stirring up trouble behind my back. She had succeeded. The next morning, when I walked into the conference room, everyone was already there. The atmosphere was a complete reversal from the day before. It was tense, almost hostile. I walked to the head of the table and placed my hands on its surface, about to speak. A voice cut through the silence. “So, have you figured out how you’re going to fix this, Sienna?” I looked up. It was Ashley, looking at me with her chin tilted in a way that screamed defiance. For a second, I couldn’t tell if she was just young and reckless or if she had been sent here deliberately to cause chaos. I ignored her, my gaze sweeping over the rest of the room. “What are all of your thoughts?” The silence stretched for several long seconds. Finally, one of my veteran employees, Carla, spoke up. “Sienna, I actually think corporate housing would be more convenient. Ashley might be young, but she has a point. We never considered it before, but now that she’s brought it up, I support the idea.” I nodded, my mind racing. I remembered Carla’s interview. She was a brilliant professional who had been forced out of the workforce by family issues and had struggled to find her way back. I’d given her a chance. For three years, she had been my most diligent and grateful employee. This was the first time she had ever voiced a complaint. Then another employee chimed in. “Yeah, my landlord decided to sell my apartment last month. I had to scramble to find a new place. If the company provided housing, that never would have happened.” The dam had broken. One by one, they all started talking. “I agree! It would take away a lot of stress so we can focus on our work.” As they spoke, I could feel Ashley’s smug, challenging gaze on me. When most of them had finished, two young women who had been sitting quietly in the corner stood up. Rachel and Wendy. They had joined last year. Both were introverted and had struggled to find jobs where they felt comfortable. They weren’t vocal, but their private messages to me were always full of gratitude. “Sienna, we have no objections,” Rachel said softly. “We’re happy with whatever the company decides.” To say I wasn’t disappointed by the others would be a lie. But the simple loyalty from those two calmed the storm brewing inside me. Before I could respond, Ashley scoffed loudly. “Are you two idiots? We’re fighting for our rights here! Unbelievable.” I shot Ashley a withering glare. She was a fresh college graduate. During her interview just a week ago, my impression of her had been “sweet and polite.” It hadn’t taken long for the mask to slip. A dry, humorless smile touched my lips. “Fine,” I said, my voice cool. “Since you’ve all reached a consensus, the new policy will take effect next month. We will provide corporate housing and a car service for everyone. The housing and transit stipends will be canceled.” I had given them exactly what they asked for. But as my words sank in, the triumphant looks on their faces curdled into shock and disbelief.

3 I paid their reactions no mind. “If there’s nothing else,” I said, “this meeting is adjourned.” I waited a moment. When no one spoke, I turned to leave. I had barely reached the door when Ashley’s voice rang out again. “What’s the meaning of this, Sienna? Are you trying to threaten us by canceling the stipends?” I turned back, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?” Her voice was indignant, as if I were the one being unreasonable. “If you weren’t threatening us, why would you cancel the stipends?” For a second, I didn’t grasp the implication. “Because you all wanted corporate housing instead,” I said, stating the obvious. “So just because you provide housing, you get to take away our other benefits? I thought you were a rich heiress! How can you be so petty?” The accusation and entitlement in her tone were so astounding, I almost laughed. If I hadn’t understood her angle before, it was crystal clear now. My eyes swept across the room. On the faces of the others, I saw the same look of entitled agreement. So that was it. They wanted it all. They wanted the twenty-five hundred dollars a month, and a free apartment, and a private car service. Where on earth did they think such a deal existed? If they weren’t going to respect me, I had no reason to indulge them. I’d been coddled my entire life; not even my parents had ever made me feel this disrespected. Now I was supposed to take it from my own employees? I slapped the folder I was holding onto the table. “Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “You want me to provide housing, a car service, and pay you a cash stipend? Are you that naive, or do you think I’m that stupid?” “You’ve all worked at other companies. Tell me, which one of them had benefits even half as good as what you have here? And now you’re letting a brand-new intern, a child, lead you around by the nose. It’s pathetic.” Seeing my anger, a few of them finally had the decency to look ashamed. It seemed I’d been too nice for too long. They’d forgotten I had a spine. The others fell silent, but Ashley, fearless as a cornered badger, kept pushing. “It’s only twenty-five hundred dollars! Why are you making such a big deal about it? It’s not like you’re short on cash!” she sneered. “Or is that whole ‘heiress’ thing just a lie?” I didn’t understand the source of her venom, and frankly, I didn’t care. Whether it was youthful arrogance or pure jealousy, she was insignificant to me. I didn’t need her approval, and I certainly didn’t owe her an explanation. I gave her one last, long look. “Since you clearly aren’t interested in a good-faith negotiation, this discussion is over. The existing benefits package will remain as is. No further applications for changes will be accepted.” My gaze hardened as I focused solely on her. “Instead of wasting your time trying to stir up drama,” I said, my voice a low warning, “you should be thinking about whether you’re going to pass your internship. Because if you don’t, none of this company’s ‘amazing’ benefits will have anything to do with you.” I wouldn’t fire an employee without cause, but with her attitude, she had just landed herself on my permanent blacklist. She finally seemed to grasp the implication, and her face paled. I turned my attention back to the rest of them. “If you’re unhappy with the benefits here, you are more than welcome to resign and find a better opportunity. I won’t stop you. But if you try to pull another stunt like this in my company, you will find that I am not so accommodating.” This time, when I turned and walked out of the room, no one dared to stop me. By the end of the day, not a single person had submitted their resignation. I put it out of my mind and went home. But that night, out of morbid curiosity, I checked the thread again. Ashley had posted a new update. And this one included a photo. [LMAO, so much for being an heiress. Turns out she’s just a homewrecker’s side piece. No wonder she’s so cheap with the perks—guess her sugar daddy’s cutting her off!]