In an upscale restaurant Elaine recognised her former boss among the wait staff.
Emma, are you free Saturday night? the voice crackled on the phone. I want to introduce you to someone. A business dinner at a nice place.
Emma adjusted her glasses, set aside the paperwork shed been poring over, and asked, What do you mean introduce? I told you Im not looking for anyone.
Its not that kind of introduction, Emma laughed. Hes a business partner. He needs a sharp accountant for his new firm. Good salary, great terms. You were the first person who came to mind.
Elaine thought it over. Her current job was comfortable, but the offer sounded tempting.
What restaurant? she asked.
The Empire on Oxford Street. Have you heard of it?
Elaine whistled. The Empire was one of the citys most expensive and fashionable eateries, where the average bill started at about seventy pounds per head.
Sounds posh, she replied. Fine, Ill be there. What time?
Seven oclock. Dress nicely the crowd will be equally dapper.
After hanging up, Elaine stood before the mirror. The reflection showed a fiftytwoyearold woman with a touch of silver at the temples, laugh lines around the eyes and a tired expression the inevitable result of thirty years as an accountant.
Saturday evening found her rummaging through her wardrobe. She settled on a darkblue dress shed bought for a company jubilee, a light touch of makeup and modest jewellery. A short taxi ride later she was pulling up to the restaurant.
The Empire welcomed her with the soft glow of crystal chandeliers and lowkey music. At the entrance a butler in a crisp tailcoat threw open the door with a courteous bow.
Welcome, he said.
Inside, the interior dazzled marble columns, velvet armchairs, paintings in gilt frames. It was a world Elaine didnt usually inhabit, and a faint awkwardness settled over her.
Do you have a reservation? asked a neatly dressed hostess.
Under the name Parker, Elaine replied.
One moment, please. The hostess glanced at her list. Table seven by the window, right this way.
They walked past a sea of welldressed, confident diners. Emma was already seated with a middleaged gentleman.
Elaine! Emma rose, clapping her hands. Finally! Meet Victor Graham. Victor, this is Elaine Parker, the accountant Ive been raving about.
Victor was affable, chatting about his business and probing gently about Elaines experience. The conversation flowed, and Elaine could already picture herself in a new role.
Lets order first, then well get back to business, Victor suggested, waving a waiter over.
A woman in a black uniform approached the table. Elaines eyes flicked to the menu, then froze.
Standing there was Irene Clarke, her former boss.
The same woman who, seven years earlier, had turned Elaines life into a daily nightmare nitpicking every report, demanding endless rewrites, and eventually driving Elaine to a nervous breakdown that landed her in the hospital.
Irenes face went pale, her hands shaking as she clutched the order pad.
Good evening, she whispered, voice barely steady. What would you like?
Emma and Victor, engrossed in the menu, didnt notice. Elaine stared at her former tormentor, disbelief mixing with a hint of irony.
Irene, once always impeccably dressed, now wore a modest waitress uniform. The swagger that had bordered on arrogance had vanished.
Victor asked, Elaine, have you decided?
Ah, yes, Elaine recovered. Ill have the Caesar salad and grilled salmon, please.
Irenes hand trembled so badly the ink smeared across the page. She whispered, Anything else?
Victor replied, Just water and a glass of wine for now, pointing at the wine list.
Irene nodded, hurried off, and Elaine watched her retreat, a swirl of conflicting feelings rising a dash of schadenfreude, a pinch of pity, a sliver of satisfaction.
Looking a bit pale, Emma remarked. All okay?
Just a little tired, Elaine answered with a strained smile.
The conversation drifted on, but Elaines mind wandered back to her first day working for Irene. Back then, the boss had greeted her coldly, scanning her from head to toe.
Right, newcomer, shed snarled. This isnt a place for slackers. I wont tolerate mistakes. Understand?
Elaine had thought it was just strictness, only to discover it was outright tyranny constant reprimands for a fiveminute delay, a misplaced comma, a late report. Once, after a traffic jam made her ten minutes late, Irene had publicly berated her in front of the whole department.
The climax came when a perfectly prepared quarterly report was rejected over a fivepound error that didnt affect the total at all. What is this?! Irene shrieked, slamming the file down. Youre making the company lose money! Fix it within the hour!
Something clicked. Elaine stood, looked Irene dead in the eye and said calmly, Im resigning, effective immediately. Please write me a termination letter.
Irene was stunned. But
Im leaving, Elaine repeated, firmer. After all these years you never said a kind word, only humiliations. I wont put up with it any longer.
She packed her things and walked out. A few weeks later a hypertensive crisis sent her to hospital, diagnosed as nervous exhaustion. Six months later she recovered, found a new job at a small, friendly firm where the boss actually appreciated his staff.
Years passed. Elaine eventually forgave Irene not for Irenes sake, but to free herself from the burden of resentment. Then fate threw them together again, but this time the balance was different.
Irene, now in her waitress uniform, returned to the table with water and wine, hands still trembling.
Everything alright? Victor asked kindly.
Yes, sorry, she muttered, almost dropping the corkscrew.
Each time she returned, Elaine saw a tired, older woman whose eyes had lost their former sparkle. The lavish suit had been replaced by a modest apron; confidence had been swapped for humility.
Victor continued outlining the jobs perks a salary well above what Elaine earned, generous bonuses, paid holidays. So, what do you think, Elaine? he asked after dessert.
I need a week to think it over, she replied. Its a serious decision.
Take all the time you need, Victor said, handing her his card. Call when youre ready.
Emma smiled, clearly hoping Elaine would bite.
When the bill arrived, Elaine glimpsed the total over a hundred pounds and settled it. She said shed stay for a short walk, then slipped out.
Outside, she pretended to have forgotten a scarf in the cloakroom, tried the door, and was stopped by a security guard.
Sorry, you need to check with reception, he said.
I just need a quick exit, she whispered, and slipped through a side door marked Staff Only, entering a modest staff room where Irene sat, clutching a handkerchief and sobbing.
Mrs. Clarke? Elaine called softly.
Irene jolted, wiped her eyes, and tried to steady herself. Elaine Im Im sorry.
Elaine pulled up a chair. Sit down, you dont have to stand.
Irene explained how, after Elaine left, the companys director turned out to be a fraud, forging documents and using her signature. When the police uncovered the scandal, the director fled abroad, and Irene was branded an accomplice. She received a conditional sentence, a ban on managerial roles, a divorce, and lost her home and car. With a criminal record, no decent job wanted her, so she took the waitress gig just to survive.
Elaine listened, feeling a mix of karmic justice and genuine compassion. Why were you so harsh? she asked gently.
I think I was compensating for my own insecurities, Irene admitted. At home my husband treated me like a servant. At work I took it out on anyone below me.
Sounds foolish, Elaine replied, and cruel.
Now Im the one being humiliated, Irene said, and I cant even afford to retire.
Do you still want to be an accountant? Elaine asked.
Yes, Id love to, Irene replied, eyes widening. But no one would hire me.
I have a suggestion, Elaine said, pulling Victors business card from her bag. Victor is hiring a chief accountant. If I recommend you, hell give you a chance.
Irene stared, disbelief flashing. Youd help me after everything?
Because Im not the type to seek revenge, Elaine said, standing. I want people to change for the better. Youve changed, I can see that.
Irene took Elaines hand. I dont deserve your kindness.
Everyone who truly repents deserves it, Elaine replied. But Ill set one condition: if you ever start belittling anyone again, Ill make sure youre out.
Deal, Irene swore, wiping away the last tears. I promise Ive changed.
The next day Elaine called Victor, accepted the offer and stipulated the extra hire. Victor agreed, saying, Youll both start next week.
When they arrived together, Victor greeted them warmly, showed them their desks, and introduced Irene to the team. She worked silently, efficiently, never raising her voice.
At lunch, Irene asked, Why did you do all this for me?
Because holding onto anger only eats you up, Elaine said, sipping her coffee. I realized I was wasting my life being angry. Forgiving you freed me. When I saw you in that restaurant, I expected to gloat, but your tears reminded me that youre already paying a price. I chose to help, not to hurt.
Weeks later Irene proved herself, arriving early, leaving late, and treating a new junior colleague with patience and kindness. Elaine watched, pleased.
Their relationship evolved from formal coworkers to nearfriends, sharing jokes over tea, swapping news, and even planning a weekend hike.
One afternoon, a stern tax inspector stormed in, looking for any discrepancy. Irene stayed calm, answering every question politely, offering the required documents without a flicker of irritation. The inspection ended without any penalties.
Did you think wed survive that? Victor asked, impressed.
Like we always do, Irene replied, smiling. Ive learned that a gentle reply disarms even the sharpest tongue.
On the way home, Elaine reflected on the strange twists of fate. Seven years ago shed dreamed of vengeance, now she was helping the very person who once made her life miserable. She felt a warm satisfaction that no revenge ever could have given her.
She remembered the night at the Empire, the embarrassed waitress, the trembling hands, and the unexpected kindness that followed. It was proof that forgiveness can be far more rewarding than any petty triumph.
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