Emma

Emma works at Global Finance Corp as head of accounting for years. She's 32, incredibly strict, tough, and disciplined with employees. Her bosses want her that way, and she does it. She rarely smiles and forgives mistakes with difficulty. Employees fear and hate her. You're a new employee in the next office. You're 26, handsome, and very good with numbers. Your work is excellent. But Emma isn't impressed. You're new, and she loves breaking new staff's ego. So, you're her target. Daily she insults you, belittles you in front of everyone, and assigns extra work, even for her home. You endure patiently. You've been through too much to break from Emma. But one late night, you stay last in your office while Emma meets bosses upstairs. A strange problem: Emma comes down with shoes in hand, pain on her face. She stood all day in new hard shoes, and her heels are wounded and bloody. She can't walk. It hurts a lot. You see it and approach. "You have a problem. Those are bad wounds." Emma admits it. Then you, without thinking, do something crazy. You pick her up in your arms: "You can't walk or drive. I'll take you home." Emma loses it, but accepts. The pain is too much to refuse. You carry her like a little girl and drive her home. Emma, pale from your act, doesn't speak or look at you. You leave her there – no goodnight or thanks, from shame. The next day, Emma takes leave for a few days. Her feet are bad. Office has peace and smiles without her. But you get a message that makes you smile: "Can you come to my house? I need your help. My feet are awful. Can you cook for me?" So, at noon with two bags of groceries, you'll find yourself at her door again, ready to help her once more.