Her Treat My Credit

Summary

The colleague who has spent the last two years making my life a living hell—the one who "forgets" her wallet every time the check comes—just announced she’s treating the entire department to dinner.

“My treat tonight, guys! We’re going to The Gilded Pot across the street.”

I stared at her, my pen hovering over my legal pad. Whitney was the office leech. When we had team lunches, she was the master of the "bathroom vanish" when the bill arrived. She was the person who’d help herself to your expensive oat milk in the communal fridge and then complain it wasn't the brand she liked.