I was retouching my makeup when a colleague suddenly tapped me on the shoulder. "That lipstick looks exactly like the one I lost a couple of days ago." Everyone in the open-plan office stopped what they were doing and turned to look. I calmly put the lipstick away. "Really? Then I better keep a close eye on mine." "Wouldn't want yours to turn up right when mine goes missing." Chapter 1 1 "What is that supposed to mean?!" Brooke Davis’s voice spiked, unable to hide the surge of fury in her eyes. "I just saw it was the same shade and made a passing comment." "Was there any need to get so passive-aggressive?" "I didn't say you took my lipstick, but acting like this makes you look incredibly guilty!" I curled my lip slightly. "Right, you didn't explicitly name me as the thief who stole your lipstick." "But with all your insinuation and subtext, aren't you just trying to make everyone here believe that I did?" Brooke was rendered speechless by my retort, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. She probably hadn't expected me to completely ignore the usual script. I didn't rush to prove my innocence; instead, I directly attacked her motivation. "I... I didn't mean it like that!" She tried to defend herself in a panic. But in the next second, she seemed to find her confidence again. She intentionally emphasized her words, her tone dripping with a sense of superiority. "This lipstick is a limited-edition shade I specifically brought back from Europe. You can't even buy it in this country." "No one in the office ever used this shade before, yet right after mine goes missing, you start wearing it. Even if I suspect you, isn't that reasonable?" I raised an eyebrow, countering her slowly and deliberately. "It’s limited edition, but there's still an 'edition,' right?" "Does 'limited' mean only you, Brooke Davis, are allowed to buy it? I can't own one? Your logic is truly fascinating." My words caused several colleagues who had been silent to chuckle under their breath. Brooke’s expression became even uglier. Just then, a female colleague at the next cubicle over, who was on good terms with Brooke, stood up to play the peacemaker. "Alright, let's not fight. It's not worth ruining office harmony over something this small." "Audrey, since you say you bought the lipstick yourself and didn't take Brooke’s, why don't you just show everyone the receipt? That would clear up the misunderstanding, right?" Brooke immediately chimed in, her tone aggressive. "Exactly! You say you bought it, then show us the proof! Unless, of course, you can't!" The gaze of the entire office focused on me again, pressuring me. I smiled. "Brooke, let's get one thing straight." "Right now, you are the one accusing me." "Based on the principle of 'innocent until proven guilty,' the burden of proof is on you." "First, you prove that this specific tube of lipstick is yours. Then, and only then, will we discuss anything else." I intended to disrupt her rhythm and force her to follow my logic. Brooke stunned for a moment, then her chest began to heave with rage. "Fine! You want proof? I'll give you proof!" She glared at me fiercely, pulled out her phone, and tapped aggressively on the screen. Very quickly, she held up her phone. The screen clearly displayed an order confirmation for an international personal shopper service. "See that?!" She held the phone screen out for everyone to see, her voice boasting. "This is my purchase record." "Where's yours? If you can't produce it, it means you're hiding something." 2 People around us began to nod, as if they had already passed a verdict of "guilty" on me. I ignored their looks, calmly pulled out my own phone, and pulled up a text conversation with a friend. "I actually didn't buy this lipstick myself," I said frankly, displaying my phone screen to everyone. On the screen, the conversation between my friend and me was clearly visible. "This was a gift from a friend." I pointed to the timestamp on the chat record; it was from a week ago. It showed messages my friend had sent while traveling, saying she had specifically picked up this lipstick as a surprise for me. The expressions around the room shifted from doubt to understanding. "Looks like it really was just a misunderstanding. It was a gift." "Exactly. Audrey doesn't seem like she's strapped for cash; why would she steal?" "Brooke was a bit too sensitive this time. Maybe she’s just in a bad mood because she lost something." "She’s never gotten along with Audrey anyway. You don't think she did this on purpose, do you?" The atmosphere in the office instantly became strained. People whispered among themselves. The suspicion originally directed at me dissipated instantly, replaced by judgment aimed at Brooke. Someone started advising her. "Brooke, since it's a misunderstanding, you should apologize to Audrey." "Yeah, you were a bit harsh with your words earlier." Brooke bit her lip tightly, not saying a word. Asking her to apologize to me was probably harder than asking her to swallow glass. She took a deep breath, attempting one final struggle. "My lipstick really is gone! We have had professional disagreements, but I wouldn't make something like this up!" "I lost something, and she just happens to be using the exact same kind. It's normal for me to get confused!" Her logic was that her "misunderstanding" was excusable. I put my phone away and crossed my arms, mimicking the exact posture she had used moments ago. "Okay. So?" I countered calmly. "The misunderstanding is cleared up now. Facts prove I didn't take your things." "You need to formally apologize right now for publicly slandering me in front of everyone." Brooke’s face was a map of conflict and reluctance. 3 Just as she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, a male voice rang out. "I don't think this situation is that simple." Caleb Stone stood up from his seat. He had just been transferred to our department a few months ago, and no one knew him very well. Nobody expected him to speak up at this moment. In an instant, every eye in the room snapped toward him. He pushed up his glasses, walked slowly into the middle of the room, his expression serious. "Text records can be easily faked, can't they?" With his opening statement, he directly invalidated my evidence. I narrowed my eyes at Caleb. He didn't look at me, but spoke to the surrounding colleagues instead. "A few days ago, around noon on Tuesday, most people had gone to the cafeteria. I came back to grab something and saw Audrey standing right by Brooke’s desk." "There were barely any people in the office then, so I didn't think much of it." "But looking back now, her demeanor... seemed a little sneaky." He was very precise with his wording: "seemed," "sneaky." Highly suggestive. "And, let's not forget, the nominations for the department manager promotion are coming out next month." "Audrey and Brooke are the two strongest contenders in our department." "At a time like this, if a scandal about stealing broke out involving one of them, what kind of blow would that be to her career?" He surveyed the room, his voice not loud, but carrying a tone of seeing through everything. "So, is it possible—" "That someone deliberately set this whole thing up? They obtained the lipstick first, forged a text thread, and then intentionally used it today to bait Brooke." "The goal being to destroy a rival’s reputation during the critical promotion window." "To make everyone think Brooke is petty and casually accuses colleagues, thereby rallying people to their side and locking in support early." 4 Caleb finished his speech. A collective gasp of realization rippled through the crowd. "My god, is corporate competition really this cutthroat?" "Playing dirty tricks like that is disgusting!" "I always thought Audrey was quiet, turns out she's got deep schemes." "There's nothing more toxic than a catfight. This is why women can't be leaders!" Everyone settled in with a spectator mentality, waiting to see how I would handle this. Normally, the person who should be the most smug, the one to immediately jump on this bandwagon, would be Brooke. As long as she nodded along with Caleb’s words, I wouldn't be able to clear my name even if I had a hundred mouths. Yet, she didn't look smug. She just frowned deeply, looking at Caleb, her eyes filled with complexity. On the other hand, amidst the wave of chatter turning against me, Caleb calmly pushed up his glasses. A faint smile of satisfaction touched the corner of his mouth. I took all of this in, finding it absurd yet hilarious. I looked up at him and spoke directly. "Oh my god, seriously, guy?" "Brooke and I—two women—are bickering over a stupid tube of lipstick, and you, a grown man, jump out to insert yourself? Trying to act like you're some genius profiler?" "And you’ve got it all painted out so vividly. Saw me by Brooke’s desk on Tuesday at noon? Are your eyes connected to the security cameras, or did you just hallucinate that?" "Let me tell you, on Tuesday at noon, I wasn't even in the office." I took a step forward, staring him down. "Furthermore, even if Brooke and I are professional rivals, I, Audrey Miller, will only win based on merit. Playing low-class, underhanded tricks like that? I’d be worried about dirtying my hands." "But you, on the other hand." I shifted the attack, my voice turning icy cold. "An outside hire who’s barely been in the department for two months, and you're already this desperate to pick a side and muddy the waters." "Escalating a personal disagreement between Brooke and me into a promotion conspiracy theory." "Did you really think we couldn't see your desperate desire to snatch that manager position?" Those words were like a resounding slap in the face to Caleb. His expression twisted instantly, a flash of panic darting through his eyes. He stammered in defense: "You... you're lying! I saw it with my own eyes! You say you weren't here, but who can prove that?" That question hit a nerve, and the surrounding people began to whisper among themselves. "Yeah, there needs to be proof." "Just saying you weren't here isn't convincing." "Audrey, I remember asking you to go to lunch on Tuesday, and you said you weren't going. You were left in the office." 5 In that nearly frozen atmosphere, a voice rose that no one expected. "I can prove it." The speaker was Brooke Davis. For a moment, everyone was stunned, including Caleb. Chapter 2 He looked at Brooke in disbelief: "Brooke, you..." Brooke ignored him. She took a deep breath, as if she had made a difficult resolution. Her cheeks flushed an unnatural shade of red, and she darted her eyes away, not daring to look at anyone. Under the prodding and questioning gazes of the crowd. She used almost all her strength to get the words out completely. "On Tuesday at noon, everyone had gone to lunch. In the office... there was only me and her." "That day... I had an emergency with my period. It stained my white skirt." As soon as these words came out, an uproar erupted in the office. The faces of several female colleagues softened with understanding and sympathy. Brooke’s face grew even redder, and she gripped the hem of her jacket. "At the time... Audrey was the only person left in the office. She saw it, didn't say anything, and just... just went out and bought me pads and a new pair of pants." "Audrey, I'm sorry." "The lipstick... I probably just misplaced it myself somewhere. I shouldn't have suspected you." Finishing her sentence, she turned and ran quickly out of the office. The colleagues who had been righteously accusing me moments ago now looked at each other, their expressions awkward and complex. "Cough, looks like it was all just a misunderstanding." "I told you so. We're colleagues; why would there be so much plotting?" "Someone just intentionally steered the conversation. It was a small thing to begin with; glad it's cleared up." Caleb Stone had become the sole clown in this farce. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile that looked more painful than crying, and said to me: "Um... looks like I saw wrong. Audrey, I'm really sorry. Be the bigger person and don't take it to heart." I gave him a cold look and let out a light huff. "A grown man, spreading gossip everywhere without knowing the truth. Acting like a little office busybody... it's a pathetic look." After saying that, I ignored him, lowered my head, and continued with my work. I originally thought this matter ended there. After all, Brooke and I argued constantly, clashing over work priorities every other day—it was our normal state. We didn't actually have a bad relationship; we weren't genuine enemies. Our work philosophies just frequently diverged, leading to arguments whenever our opinions didn't align. We’d argue and then drop it, never truly holding a grudge. But I never dreamed that someone would use this little friction between Brooke and me as a tool for corporate warfare.
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