I stopped for a woman dying on the roadside and lost my job for being late, but when I came back for my desk, my whole life changed…007

 

They weren’t.

All that was left was the smell of burnt office coffee, printer toner, and the slow  death of the best opportunity our little agency had seen in months.

“Nick, I’m sorry,” I said.

“I am.

But what was I supposed to do?

Drive past her?”

“Yes,” he snapped.

The room went even quieter.

For a second, I honestly thought I’d heard him wrong.

He stepped closer.

“Yes, Sebastian.

You were supposed to keep driving.

You had a responsibility here.

You had a team depending on you.

You had clients waiting.

We are not a charity.

We are a business.”

My ears started ringing.

I’d worked at that agency for almost three years.

I had taken late calls, skipped lunches, stayed weekends, saved bad campaigns, soothed angry  customers, trained new hires, pulled numbers out of thin air when nobody else could.