The Wrong Transfer
Language: en
Three years gone at the Boston branch. At the New Year's HQ conference, the Chairman praised me for doubling Boston's profits, calling me a hero. He turned to my girlfriend, Isabelle, joking that after our seven years together, she should finally transfer me back so we could marry. My heart soared. The grind was about to pay off. I was coming home. But Isabelle, all business, announced, "Liam transfers to HQ. Noah stays in Boston." She said Liam needed HQ experience for his future, then looked at me, her voice soft but firm. "Noah, you're the bigger person. You wouldn't want me accused of…