Boss Fires Young Dishwasher Suspecting Her of Theft, Apologizes in Tears After He Opens Her Bag — Story of the Day

When Thomas, a rich restaurant owner, notices a young dishwasher frequenting the locker room, he suspects her of theft. He shames her in front of everyone and grabs her bag to check, only to regret it after seeing what’s inside.

Thomas was a wealthy widower in his early 50s who considered himself smart and charming. He despised those who called him ‘bald’ and ‘pot belly man’ behind his back.

Thomas thought he could easily hit on any young and beautiful woman. He never grew tired of flirting, not that he was a full-time flirt, but he never missed the chance whenever he saw gorgeous young ladies.

For Thomas, age was just a number, and it wouldn’t stop him from unleashing his pick-up lines and directing his steamy stares toward women, including the waitresses and dishwashers who worked in his restaurant. Among them was 20-year-old Giselle.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Giselle was pretty new at the restaurant. She’d been working as a dishwasher for a month. She was a poor widow who had recently lost her husband, the love of her life, Mason. She struggled to make ends meet after the tragedy and came across a ‘We are Hiring’ signboard outside Thomas’s eatery. She applied as a dishwasher and immediately started working with all her diligence and dedication.

Thomas hurried to her and snatched the bag from her hand. It was heavier than he thought and he had no idea what was inside.

Her co-workers warned her about their boss’s attitude towards the female staff. “That man likes to flirt and has even invited some on dates. He thinks money can buy anything,” one of them said.

Giselle shrugged it off. She was focused on keeping her job at any cost. “I know my boundaries!” she said confidently.

But one day, she witnessed the ugly side of her boss.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Do you have any idea why I hired you, Miss Giselle?” Thomas had blocked her way as she was leaving at the end of her shift. He grabbed a red rose from a table nearby.

“No, sir. Please excuse me. I have to get home soon.”

“Don’t call me sir, Miss Giselle. Call me Tom!”

Giselle felt helpless and trapped because she was the last to leave the eatery. She had a lot of dishes to do that day.

“It’s getting late…I have to go. Good day, sir!”

But Thomas wouldn’t budge. “I was blinded by your beauty the first day I saw you,” he said cheesily. “I can sing praises of your beautiful smile all day! What do you think? We can go to a resort, have plenty of drinks, and shop for everything you want…Hmmm?!”

Annoyed, Giselle gently pushed Thomas out of her way and stormed out, saying: “I’m here to work, sir. I’m not here for anything other than my job. And I respect my workplace. Thank you, but I’m not the type you’re looking for. Good day, sir!”

Thomas was furious. His ego hurt. “She is, after all, an ORDINARY dishwasher…How dare she turn down my offer? Wait until I show you what I’m capable of.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Days passed, but Thomas hadn’t gotten over what had happened. He was not ready to accept defeat or rejection. He kept looking for a way to humiliate Giselle.

One day, he saw her arrive at work with a big bag and walk into the staff room. An evil plan flashed into Thomas’s mind, and he waited for the next few days to make sure Giselle carried this bag every day to work.

He often checked on Giselle and saw her frequenting the locker room during her shift. His suspicions brewed, and he waited until the afternoon when the eatery was busy to pounce on her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Have a nice day! I have to go to the market. I took half a day off,” Giselle said to her friends.

Just as she was about to exit the door, Thomas called out loud: “Wait right there, Miss Giselle! What have you got in your bag today? Have you been STEALING leftovers and dishwashing liquid? You’re FIRED!”

Giselle was startled. She turned around and started to sweat in fear. The guests stared back at her and began whispering things. Her coworkers assembled behind Thomas and were equally shocked.

“I know you’ve been stealing from me. I saw you frequent the locker room at least thrice during your shift. Come here, give me your bag. Let me see what’s inside.”

Giselle was frightened. She wanted to step back and run. “It’s nothing, sir. I just have my lunch box and a set of spare clothes in it.”

But Thomas hurried to her and snatched the bag from her hand. It was heavier than he thought.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Some curious guests and staff flocked around Giselle and Thomas as he put the bag on a table and took out a little blanket from it. “Oh my God! What is this?!” he exclaimed as the rest gaped in shock.

“Mawww…Mawww…Mawww.” A newborn baby girl wriggled inside the bag, staring back at Thomas with big brown eyes. He was stunned.

“Sir, I can explain,” began Giselle…

“My husband died a few months ago when I was pregnant. After my baby came, I could not find work, and I had nobody to look after her when I joined here. I could not leave her alone at home, so I hid her in the bag and carried her to work. I frequented the staff to feed her and make sure she never made any noise. I was just protecting my baby. I’m not a thief. I didn’t take a crumb from here.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Thomas was moved to tears as the baby reminded him of the child he had lost way back. That day, he cried like a kid in front of everyone, exposing a side of him that nobody knew. Thomas folded his palms and immediately apologized to Giselle.

“I’m sorry, Miss Giselle. I lost my wife and child in an accident many years ago. I remained single after that because I feared losing my loved ones again. I never found true love after that. My loneliness turned me into a monster. I’m not bad at heart, but it’s just that I lived with the assumption that money could buy anything, even love. I was wrong.”

Giselle was teary-eyed after learning Thomas’s story. “Sir, I’m sorry for what you went through after losing your family. I’m glad you realized your mistake, at least now.”

Thomas returned the bag with the baby to Giselle. “You may return to work after a month. I’m giving you paid leave so that you can spend time with your child.”

Giselle smiled, and she left the eatery with her baby.

Thomas had decided to double Giselle’s salary once she returned to work so that it would help her hire a nanny to babysit her child while she was away at work. But did he stop flirting after that?!

Unsurprisingly, some old habits die hard, which was true in Thomas’s case! Although he stopped flirting with his female staff, he still did not completely stop hitting on other random women. Only time will tell if Thomas will succeed in finding true love again. But everyone, including Giselle, is glad he realized money isn’t everything.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

What can we learn from this story?

  • Never take somebody’s helplessness for granted. Thomas took advantage of his position to flirt with his employee and coerce her to go on a date with him, regretting it later.
  • A mother will do anything to protect her child. Giselle secretly brought her newborn baby to work in order to care for her while earning her keep. She risked her job to protect and care for her baby.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

I Was Sure My Partner Was a Widower – Until His Daughter Confessed She’s Been Seeing Her Mom on Saturdays

I thought Austin was the perfect man, a widower raising his daughter, grounded by tragedy. But everything unraveled the day his daughter whispered a chilling secret: her mother wasn’t dead.

Meeting Austin felt like finding a lighthouse in a storm. We met at a mutual friend’s housewarming party, where he stood by the fireplace, cradling a drink with practiced ease.

A man standing by a fireplace | Source: Midjourney

A man standing by a fireplace | Source: Midjourney

His eyes held a softness that I hadn’t seen in a long time; a quiet resilience beneath a tragedy.

“It’s been two years since my wife passed,” he told me later, his voice low and even. “Car accident. It’s just me and my daughter now.”

Austin’s vulnerability drew me in. He was attentive in ways that felt like a balm to my guarded heart. He was always texting to check if I’d made it home safely and showing up with dinner on nights he knew I’d had a long day.

A man holding a takeout bag | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a takeout bag | Source: Midjourney

It was sweet, even if, at times, it bordered on clingy. When he’d ask if I could “just send a quick text” when I was out with friends, I chalked it up to someone who’d been through loss and was just cautious about losing someone else.

As the weeks turned into months, his kindness and steady demeanor convinced me I’d found something real.

He introduced me to his daughter, Willow, a quiet 14-year-old who mostly lived with her grandmother.

A teen girl | Source: Midjourney

A teen girl | Source: Midjourney

She spent Sundays with Austin, and while she was always polite, there was a distance to her. She’d perch awkwardly on the edge of the couch during visits, her legs tucked under her like she wasn’t planning to stay long.

Six months in, I thought I knew him. I really did.

On Saturday, we celebrated Austin’s birthday. It was a small gathering, just a few close friends and Willow, who stayed overnight so she could spend Sunday with her dad.

Birthday decorations and cake | Source: Pexels

Birthday decorations and cake | Source: Pexels

The next morning, as I stood in the kitchen pouring my second coffee, I heard a whisper from the living room. The sound was faint, but it caught my attention.

“Sorry, Mom. You know yesterday was his birthday. I couldn’t come. I’ll call you later.”

I froze, the coffee pot still tilted mid-pour. Mom?

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“Willow?” I called, trying to keep my voice steady as I walked into the living room. She was still clutching her phone, cheeks flushed.

She looked up, startled. “Yeah?”

“Did you just say ‘Mom’?”

Her eyes darted toward the hallway, then back to me.

A teen girl glancing nervously to one side | Source: Midjourney

A teen girl glancing nervously to one side | Source: Midjourney

“Oh,” she laughed, too high and too loud. “It’s just a friend. We call her ‘Mom’ as a joke.”

The explanation didn’t sit right, and Willow must’ve seen the doubt on my face. Before I could press further, she grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly firm for such a slight frame.

“Not here,” she hissed. “Let’s talk in the basement.”

The air in the basement was cool and damp, and Willow’s eyes darted toward the closed door as if it might betray her.

A closed door | Source: Pexels

A closed door | Source: Pexels

“You can’t tell Dad what I’m about to tell you,” she said, her voice trembling. “Promise me.”

“I… okay,” I said, though my heart was pounding. “What’s going on?”

“She’s not dead,” Willow whispered, each word a fragile shard. “My mom. She’s alive.”

I felt the world shift beneath me. “What? How… why would he think she’s dead?”

Willow looked down, her hands twisting the hem of her sweatshirt. “Because she wanted him to.”

A teen girl speaking to someone in a basement | Source: Midjourney

A teen girl speaking to someone in a basement | Source: Midjourney

“She left to escape him and his controlling behavior,” she added. “But he wouldn’t let her move on. He stalked her and threatened her. When the crash happened, she saw her chance.”

“Her chance?” My voice cracked.

“To disappear.” Willow swallowed hard. “It happened on a country road and the police assumed wild animals got her when they couldn’t find a body. Everyone believed it. She moved to another city. She thought it was the only way to be free.”

A teen girl in a basement | Source: Midjourney

A teen girl in a basement | Source: Midjourney

Her words came in gasps now. “I see her on Saturdays. She’s safe, but if Dad found out, he’d ruin her life all over again.”

Willow’s revelation sent my mind reeling. The ground I thought I’d been standing on felt suddenly unstable, like I’d been balancing on thin ice without realizing it.

Her words echoed in my head: “If Dad found out, he’d ruin her life all over again.” The Austin I thought I knew (a kind, steady man who loved deeply) didn’t match the Austin she described.

A disturbed woman | Source: Midjourney

A disturbed woman | Source: Midjourney

But the pieces she’d handed me started to slot into place. I couldn’t ignore the red flags any longer.

I began replaying moments I’d dismissed. The constant texts checking in (“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay”) had felt sweet at first, a sign he cared. But now I remembered the unease I’d felt when they came in rapid succession if I didn’t respond fast enough.

Then there was his subtle needling when I made plans without him: “Why didn’t you tell me you were going out with your friends?” or “I guess I just assumed we’d spend the evening together.”

A woman lost in thought | Source: Midjourney

A woman lost in thought | Source: Midjourney

At the time, I’d written it off as insecurity, nothing malicious. But now, it felt like a web was being spun tighter and tighter around me.

I decided I needed to test him. If Willow was right, Austin’s response to the smallest assertion of independence would tell me everything.

“I need some space,” I told him one evening, my voice steadier than I felt. My pulse hammered in my ears as I forced myself to meet his gaze. “Just to think about where we’re going.”

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

The air between us shifted, his expression freezing for the briefest moment before he forced a smile. It was a practiced smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Of course,” he said, his tone gentle but strained. “Take all the time you need. Just don’t forget how much I care about you.”

I nodded, unsure what else to say. For a moment, I let myself believe he’d taken it well.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

His texts began the next morning, one after another, faster than I could respond.

“Hey, just checking in.”

“I hope everything’s okay.”

“I miss you. Can we talk soon?”

By the time I arrived at work, my phone was buzzing incessantly. By lunchtime, he was standing outside the building with a bouquet in his hand.

A man holding a bouquet | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a bouquet | Source: Midjourney

His smile stretched too wide as he greeted me, his presence jarring against the normalcy of my workday.

“I just wanted to see you,” he said, handing me the flowers. His eyes scanned my face like he was searching for something, reassurance, maybe. Or a sign that I’d give in.

I tried to deflect, thanking him but keeping my distance. “I’m really busy today, Austin. We’ll talk later.”

A woman waving while walking away | Source: Midjourney

A woman waving while walking away | Source: Midjourney

He nodded, but his smile faltered as I turned and walked away. By the time I reached the elevator, my hands were shaking.

That evening, as I approached my apartment, I spotted him standing by the entrance. He didn’t have flowers this time, just his presence, looming and uninvited.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. But his eyes… there was something darker there now, something I couldn’t ignore.

A man with an unsettling smile | Source: Midjourney

A man with an unsettling smile | Source: Midjourney

My instincts screamed at me to run, but I forced myself to stay calm.

“Austin, this isn’t okay,” I said, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound firm. “You need to go.”

He hesitated, then gave me that tight, brittle smile again. “I just wanted to talk.”

Once he left, I bolted the door and called my friend, Mark.

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

A woman making a phone call | Source: Midjourney

Mark was a cop so if anyone could help me out, it was him. My hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

When he answered, the words spilled out in a torrent, my voice cracking under the weight of my fear.

Mark listened patiently, his tone steady when he spoke. “You did the right thing calling me,” he said. “If he steps out of line again, we’ll deal with him.”

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

The next day, I spotted Austin again as I left work. My heart sank, but this time, Mark was ready. He stepped out of his squad car with an authority that seemed to fill the space around him.

“Austin,” Mark said, his voice calm but steely. “This stops now. If you keep this up, there will be legal consequences. Leave her alone.”

For a moment, Austin just stared at him, his jaw tight and his fists clenching at his sides. Then his mask slipped.

A glaring man | Source: Midjourney

A glaring man | Source: Midjourney

The glare he directed at me was sharp, venomous, and unrecognizable. It was a glimpse of the man Willow had warned me about.

“I just wanted to talk,” he muttered, his voice low and defensive. But he stepped back, his movements deliberate as he turned and walked away.

Mark stayed until I was safely inside my car, his presence a quiet reassurance. But the image of Austin’s glare stayed with me, etched into my mind like a warning.

A woman sitting in her car | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her car | Source: Midjourney

The man I’d once trusted completely was gone, replaced by someone I barely recognized.

I blocked Austin on everything: my phone, my email, and even social media. Then I packed a bag and moved in with my friend, Jennifer for a while. The relief of distance was like air filling my lungs after weeks of suffocation.

Sitting in Jennifer’s guest room that night, I thought about how dangerously close I’d come to losing myself.

A woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

I thought of Willow, her small hands clutching her sweatshirt in the basement, and her mother, rebuilding a life from ashes.

If they could find the strength to start over, so could I. I wasn’t just escaping Austin; I was reclaiming my life. And this time, I would be more careful.

Here’s another story: My new neighbor was making my life hell between his dawn wood chopping and that destructive dog. We were on the verge of an all-out war when his seven-year-old daughter showed up crying on my doorstep with a desperate plea for help.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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