My Coworker’s Worst Mistake

My coworker, Linda Sullivan, loved taking advantage of people. She borrowed my electric scooter for an urgent errand. When she finally returned it, it wouldn’t run. I brought it in for repairs and the mechanic told me someone had swapped the battery. I stormed straight back into the office to confront Linda, but before I could finish laying out what happened, she turned the tables on me. "I switched your battery?” Linda shrieked, “Where's your proof? Show me some real proof right now, or I'm suing you for slander!" What she didn't know was that my original battery was already defective. If she refused to give it back to me, whatever happened next would be entirely on her. Chapter 1 On my very first day on the job, I walked in on Linda screaming at someone. "How dare you accuse me of swapping your gold bracelet!" The girl getting yelled at had bloodshot, watery eyes, her knuckles white as she clutched a dull metal band. "Linda, I only lent it to you for one afternoon! When I got it back, it was cheap brass! Who else could it have been?" "Bull crap! You're a fresh-faced intern, like you could ever afford real gold!" Linda stood with her hands jammed onto her hips, her frizzy curls trembling as she shrieked, "You're just jealous of my new gold bracelet! You can't afford one yourself, so you're claiming I stole yours!" "You..." The girl stood there, choking back a sob, tears spilling over her lashes and splashing onto the floor. None of the other coworkers dared to utter a single word. Standing at the back of the crowd, I let a thought slip out before I could stop myself. "We could just check the security cameras." Everyone snapped their heads toward me. A spark lit up in the crying girl's eyes. "Right! I want to check the security footage!" Linda shot me a lethal glare. "Who the hell are you?" Before I could answer, Mark Price, the senior training me, jumped in. "Sorry, Linda. She's new. She doesn't know how things work around here." Mark grabbed my arm and dragged me straight into the break room. "What’s wrong with you? Linda is the Director of Administration. She controls the security system. You think anyone is ever getting to see that footage?" I froze. "But she's crying her eyes out. Is nobody going to do anything?" "Do anything?" Mark scoffed and gave me the rundown on Linda's legendary reputation. She was a twenty-year veteran at the company whose absolute specialty was the bait-and-switch. She swapped out everything, from basic office supplies and water bottles to high-end holiday perks, turning around and selling the real stuff for quick cash. Word was that the intern had called Linda out for replacing gourmet client gift packs with cheap knockoffs, and the very next day, her gold bracelet mysteriously turned to brass. Linda was old friends with the CEO, so the management completely ignored her antics. Mark warned me to keep my head down and stay as far away from Linda as possible. Even as a newcomer, I knew better than to pick a fight with the person who pulled the strings around the office, so I nodded along. A few days later, the intern quit, but not before Linda docked her final paycheck for alleged attendance violations. The girl filed a complaint with the state labor department, but when investigators requested the security footage, Linda conveniently claimed the cameras were broken. With no evidence, the intern had no choice but to swallow the loss. That day after work, as I was unlocking my electric scooter in the parking lot to head home, Linda appeared out of nowhere and cut me off. "Hey, newbie. Emergency at home. Can I borrow your scooter?" Panic twitched in her eyes. It didn't look fake. When I hesitated, she pressed harder. "Come on, please! Traffic is completely jammed right now. I'll reimburse whatever you spend on an Uber today!" I didn't care about being her friend, but I didn't want an enemy either. So, I handed over the keys. The next morning, I went to her desk to get my scooter back, but she claimed she forgot it at home. When I mentioned the Uber reimbursement, she brushed it off, saying she would settle up when she returned the vehicle. The day after that, she claimed she was charging it at her place and promised to bring it back once it had a full battery. I fell for it again. By day three and day four, the excuses just kept piling up. My blood was boiling. After work on Friday, I watched her like a hawk. The moment she stepped out of the building and swung her leg over my scooter, I charged into the parking lot and planted myself right in front of the vehicle. "Linda! You’re giving me my scooter back today!" She flashed a greasy, fake grin. "Oh, come on, just one more day! The traffic is brutal!" "Linda, I'm stuck in traffic too! I've been late to work every single day this week! My attendance bonus is gone, and you haven't paid me back a single cent for my rides!" Her smile evaporated into a snarl. "Are you serious right now? It's just a damn scooter! Stop nagging me!" Fury surged through my chest. "How can I not nag you? You keep dragging this out day after day! Give me my keys right now!" Chapter 2 Seeing me planted squarely in front of her, she glared at me, her eyes vicious. "Are you moving or not?!" "No! Give me back my scooter!" "Fine!" Suddenly, she jerked her body to the side and flopped straight onto the pavement like a landed fish. "Help! Workplace violence! My coworker is attacking me! Ow! Oh, the pain! Someone call an ambulance!" She lay right there in plain sight, clutching her arm and wailing at the top of her lungs. It was rush hour, so a crowd gathered almost instantly. Onlookers who had no idea what was happening started whispering and pointing their fingers right at me. I had never seen anyone so utterly shameless in my entire life. "What are you doing?! I didn't even touch you!" "You shoved me! You pushed me hard! I just asked to borrow your scooter. If you didn't want to lend it, you could've just said no. Why did you have to lay hands on me?" The nasty accusations stung my ears, and heat rushed up my neck until my face burned crimson. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Even when security arrived, she stuck to the exact same script. The crowd grew. Linda lay on the asphalt, her hair wildly matted across her face. Through the messy strands, I caught the cruel, triumphant smirk in her eyes. A throbbing migraine hammered behind my temples from pure rage. "Fine! You refuse to get up? I'm calling the police!" When the officers arrived, the very first thing they said upon seeing Linda was, "You again?" Linda upped the volume on her wailing instantly. "Officers, she assaulted me! I can't lift my arm! I demand a full medical evaluation!" "Officers, I didn't lay a finger on her. If you don't believe me, you can check the security cameras." Unfortunately, where Linda parked happened to sit right in a blind spot outside the camera's range, leaving no choice but to take her for a medical checkup first. At the hospital, the doctor found absolutely nothing wrong with her other than high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and high blood sugar. Linda refused to drop it. "It's internal damage! You can't see it on an X-ray! She caused me severe psychological trauma!" She insisted she was emotionally scarred, took three days of sick leave, and demanded I pay for her lost wages. Over my dead body. The police took my side, sternly warning Linda to stop making a scene. She didn't get a single dime out of me, but I still didn't get my scooter back right then. Right in front of the officers, Linda begrudgingly promised to return it the second she got discharged from the hospital. I watched her lying in that hospital bed, raising her eyebrows at me in mock victory. My stomach twisted into knots from pure fury. When my coworkers heard about the nightmare, all they could do was offer sympathetic pats on the back. Three days later, Linda finally strutted back into the office. Miraculously, she tossed my keys onto my desk. "Here! It's just a stupid scooter, and you actually called the police on me! For a newbie, you really don't know how to play nice. Mark my words, you won't last long in the real world." I snatched the keys off the table. "How long I last isn't your concern." "Hmph! You're all talk!" She pulled another set of keys from her pocket, identical to mine, and flashed them right in my face. "I bought my own! The absolute latest model! Yours is a slow, clunky piece of junk anyway. I couldn't care less about it!" Slow? I almost laughed out loud. I bought my scooter two years ago. It had a seventy-mile range and topped out at thirty miles per hour, back before the new city speed cap laws. The current models were capped at fifteen miles per hour and didn't have half my battery life. She couldn't care less? Fine by me. The second I got my ride back, I swapped out the lock for a heavy-duty deadbolt. Yet the very next morning on my ride to work, less than half a mile from the office, the scooter suddenly shuddered. The digital dashboard flickered, turned pitch black, and died completely. I twisted the throttle twice. Nothing. Not a pulse. That made no sense. I had plugged it in all night and left home with a full charge. As I crouched by the curb trying to inspect the vehicle, Linda glided up beside me on her scooter, bringing it to a smooth stop. "Oh, hey Katie. What's the matter, broke down? You're gonna be late." I kept my mouth shut, remaining ducked over the wheel. When she realized I was ignoring her, she let out a cold sneer. With a sharp “whoosh,” she zoomed off. My head snapped up, my eyes locked on her disappearing back. Something was wrong. Wasn't hers the brand-new model? With the city speed limiter enabled, how on earth was she riding that fast? Chapter 3 As I had to haul my scooter to the repair shop, I was late for work again. Linda made a point of strutting past my desk, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Oh, Katie, this is bad! You're only in your first month of probation, and you've been late for almost a whole week! When review time comes around and you don't get hired full-time, don't blame me!" My jaw clenched so hard my back teeth ached. God, I hated her. Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from the mechanic, Dave. Dave the Mechanic: [Katie, did someone mess with your scooter battery?] Me: [What? No!] Dave sent over a photo of the battery compartment. Dave the Mechanic: [Katie, this battery doesn't match your scooter at all. Every scooter has a unique serial number tied to its battery. This counts as illegal tampering.] [You can't ride this thing, it's a legit fire hazard now. If it explodes, your insurance won't cover a single cent. The connection port looks brand new though. If you can get your original battery back, I can swap it back in for you.] A single image flashed in my head: Linda. The way she had zoomed past me on the road this morning, flying down the street. She had definitely stolen my battery. Gripping my phone, I stormed straight into the admin office. Linda was holding a cup of coffee, gloating to a group of coworkers about her shiny new ride. "Linda! Did you swap out my scooter battery?" Her laughter cut short, and she spun around to face me. "What battery? I have no idea what you're talking about." I didn't bother wasting breath on her lies. I pulled up the text with Dave and thrust the screen in front of her face. "The mechanic just took it apart and took these photos! Someone swapped my battery! My scooter used to get seventy miles on a single charge, and now it barely gets twenty-five!" Linda set her coffee cup down and casually crossed her legs. "And what does that have to do with me?" "I lent you my scooter in perfect condition, and it came back like this! How does that have nothing to do with you?" She chuckled, twirling a curl of her frizzy hair around her finger. "Katie, you need proof before you run your mouth. Did you actually see me touch your battery with your own two eyes? Your junk vehicle got tampered with, so you're trying to pin it on me?" Rage trembled through my limbs. "Do you have any idea how dangerous illegal battery modifications are? It could literally explode!" "Then let it explode!" She shrugged, her face showing total apathy. "Not my ride, not my problem." "You..." I gripped my phone, my voice shaking with fury. "Fine! I'm calling the police! I'll have them inspect your scooter! Every battery has a matching serial number! If they prove you stole mine, I’ll personally make sure you get thrown in jail, you thief!" A flicker of genuine panic flashed across her eyes. "Go ahead, call them! You always threaten to call the police over every little thing!" My thumb hovered over the call button. Then, a loud cough echoed from the doorway. "What’s all this noise about?" I turned around. It was Nathan Collins, our CEO. Linda's expression flipped in a split second, casting herself as a victim. "Mr. Collins, you came at the perfect time! Katie keeps insisting I stole her scooter battery! Why would I need to touch her rundown old piece of junk when I just bought a brand-new one? Her vehicle broke down, so why is she taking it out on me?" She let out a heavy sigh, dabbing at her eyes. "Younger employees these days have no respect. Anything goes wrong, and they immediately scapegoat me. I'm honestly exhausted..." I squeezed my phone, my teeth grinding together. "Mr. Collins, my battery was genuinely stolen and replaced. The mechanic inspected the entire vehicle..." In a few quick sentences, I laid out the facts. Mr. Collins glanced at my text messages, then turned to look at Linda, who was putting on a full waterworks display. His expression darkened. "Katie. In my office. Right now." I followed Mr. Collins out the door. As I passed her, Linda silently mouthed two words, a smug sneer playing on her lips: “You’re screwed.” Chapter 4 Why the hell would I be screwed? I marched right into Mr. Collins' office, threw myself into his plush leather chair, and let my voice boom. "Uncle Nathan! What Linda did is straight-up grand theft! This time, I’m sending her straight to jail!" Yep. The CEO was my biological uncle. I had planned on keeping my internship totally low-key to avoid bothering him, but Linda was driving me completely insane. My uncle let out a heavy sigh. "Katie, how much did your scooter cost? I’ll cover it out of my own pocket. Just let this go." My jaw dropped. "Wait, what? Uncle Nathan, she stole my battery! Why on earth are you covering for her?" I stared at him, a totally unhinged thought popping into my brain. "Are the office rumors actually true? Are you two hooking up? You're out of your mind! How could you do that to Aunt Selina?" "Don't speak nonsense!" His voice shot up a whole octave. He fell silent for a long moment before finally spilling the beans. Years ago, my uncle and Linda's husband started a business together. They were young and reckless, and they ended up using substandard materials, causing the massive construction to collapse. My uncle was facing serious prison time. Linda's husband took the fall completely on his own and went to prison. Since then, my uncle gave Linda a free pass on everything over the years, as long as she didn't commit a major felony. "Katie, I’m begging you just this once. If this blows up and she demands a reinvestigation into the collapse..." He trailed off, but I understood perfectly. Linda actually held my uncle by the throat. Watching the tortured expression on my uncle's face, I let out a harsh breath. "Fine." My uncle exhaled a massive sigh of relief. "But," I added, "You have to warn her. Make her swap that scooter out. Illegal battery mods will blow up in her face!" He nodded solemnly and transferred two thousand dollars to my account to buy a replacement ride. When I walked back out to the office, Linda saw my defeated slump. Her smirk practically stretched from ear to ear. "Oh, Katie's back! What did Mr. Collins have to say?" she asked, projecting her voice so the entire floor knew she was the victor. Honestly, after all her toxic drama, I was totally sick of scooters. I sold my broken one immediately. Over the next few days, Linda got completely out of control, taking every possible chance to rub her victory in my face. Every time she provoked me, I pictured my uncle's desperate face. I swallowed the rage and endured it all. I came home every night radiating pure fury. My mom noticed my dark mood instantly. "What's wrong?" I spilled the entire story. My mom understood my uncle's impossible position, but she was furious that I was being bullied. She waved her hand dismissively. "Let's go. Tomorrow, I'm taking you to buy a vehicle with four wheels!" The next morning at the car dealership. I was busy checking out the interiors with my mom when my phone started blowing up. It was Linda. I didn't even blink before hitting decline. She called again and again, so I blocked her number entirely. The calls stopped, but her messages started flooding my screen. Linda: [Katie, are you there?] [This is a massive emergency. I’m begging you, answer the phone.] When I left her on read, she took it to the main office group chat. Linda: [Is anyone with Katie right now? Please get her to answer the phone.] [If anyone knows where Katie is, please tell me right now!] She even cornered Mark. When he told her I took the day off, she sprinted to HR to dig up my family's emergency contacts. Everyone in the chat was dying to know what the emergency was, but she refused to say a single word. Mark slipped into my private messages. [Linda has completely lost her mind. She's tearing the world apart looking for you. What exactly did you do?] I texted back quickly. [No clue. Just ignore her.] I went back to car shopping. The second I slid into the driver's seat and wrapped my hands around the steering wheel, my phone rang again. This time, it was Uncle Nathan. "Get back to the office right now!" "Why? I'm out with my mom buying a car!" "Linda's scooter exploded!"