My Best Friend Is a Young Rich Lady

About this story

My best friend and I joined the same company together. She's the golden goose of the sales department, while I'm the trailblazer in the project department. My best friend said, "Sweetie, want me to throw this order your way?" My eyes lit up: "Yes!" In the end, the million-dollar deal we'd worked so hard to win was snatched away by a green tea girl who parachuted in to steal the credit. That scheming green tea girl even gloated to our faces: "So what if you're young, pretty, and capable? In the end, aren't you just paving the way for me?" I couldn't hold it in—I'd rather lose my job than not cuss this green tea girl out to her face. Afterward, I whispered to my best friend: "This company really sucks. I'm thinking of quitting. What about you?" My best friend said, "If you quit, I quit." Just as we handed in our resignation letters, the company's mysterious chairman appeared. He clung tightly to my best friend's leg, sobbing miserably: "Young miss, please don't joke with me—if you resign, this company won't last until tomorrow..."