#on the rare occasion that a customer does apologize to me for being a jerk I don't know what to do with it

[icedteaandoldlace]

One of the weirdest flavors of rude customer interactions you can have is when there's the customer who's just an absolute ass from the moment they walk in, snapping at every turn, getting huffy and rolling their eyes all dramatically when you ask them to repeat something, or ask a very normal question that you need an answer to before you can help them any further ("And what's the address you'd like to have this delivered to?" for example). And there's also the person they walked in with, usually a spouse or otherwise significant other, and you're a little wary of them, too, at first, 'cause you're not sure if they're both grouches or not, because the first one is doing most of the talking. But then you see them react to their partner's bitchiness, and for a moment, you wonder if you should feel sorry for them, having to live with this person. But then eventually, the first person sighs a little, and apologizes to their partner, and explains that they're just hungry, or stressed, or tired, or whatever, and the partner says something soft and reassuring in return—and no one says jack shit to you, the person the majority and the worst of the bitchy attitude has been unleashed on. They'll apologize to their partner right in front of you for treating them not half as bad as they've been treating you, but there's no apology directed at you, not even a sidelong glance your way as they're apologizing to their partner, not even their partner apologizing on their behalf—not even a slight improvement in the way they treat you afterward. They're both clearly capable of recognizing this behavior as inappropriate, they just don't give a damn how it may make you feel, because servers and cashiers and all manner of other customer service workers just aren't people, apparently.

[holylulusworld]

Stolen reputation

Summary: Losing your job is more than you can bear…

Pairing: CEO!Dean x Accountant!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradburry, Jo Harvelle, Lisa Braeden

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of cancer/cancer treatment, accusation, mentions of anxiety

Nervously chewing on your lower lip, you wait for Dean Winchester to finally say a word. Usually, you work with his brother Sam or on rare occasions with his father but Dean, well Dean Winchester is the man they send you to if you messed up.

You wreck your brain since Jo told you worriedly that Dean Winchester wants to see you at his office. The last time that man talked to you was when he asked if you could bring him a coffee too as his secretary quit yet again.

“Do you know why you are here?” Dean’s voice low and stern brings you out of your thoughts. “I asked you a question Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Jo told me you want to see me, Sir. I know I was late last week but it was the first time and I swear it will never happen again,” apologizing for the only mistake you made in the five years you work for Winchester Inc. you dare not to meet Dean’s gaze.

“You think I would waste my time for nonsense as coming too late to work? This is serious, Ms. Y/L/N. Stealing money from our clients’ accounts is a crime. You are lucky I did not call the cops,” Dean barks and your head snaps upward to meet his gaze.

“I would never steal, Sir. I swear I do not know what you are talking about. I work hard, never make mistakes, and came too late only this once in over five years. I’m loyal and reliable. I never stole anything,” close to tears, you feel your anxiety rise again. Your lips start to quiver, and you need all your strength to not start to hyperventilate.

“Do you think I am dumb, that Lisa is dumb?” You shake your head, wiping a few rogue tears away.

“Lisa? I don’t understand. She talked to me just yesterday, asked me questions about the accounts I had to close as the clients left us,” you want to open your laptop to show Dean the data but he grasps it, tossing it onto the couch.

“Stop lying, Y/N!” He slams the palm of his hands onto the leans of your chair, making you flinch.

“I do not lie, Sir. Cole signed the papers. He would’ve seen any mistake or if money would have disappeared. I swear, there is nothing wrong with my accounts.” Dean doesn’t believe you, rather gets papers out for you to sign.

“You’re lucky I got the money back from the account you transferred it to. This way, we can keep the cops out of this and not lose our reputation for being safer than any bank,” Dean hands you a pen, glaring at you. “You are fired. Sign this, pack your shit and leave.”

“Sir, please, I need this job. I didn’t do anything wrong. Let me check the accounts, or ask Charlie. I know she can find out if I manipulated any account, Sir. Give me the chance to prove I am innocent,” you try but Dean points toward the papers and you know – he will not give you a chance.

“To think I believed you are different, Y/N,” Dean huffs, grabbing your wrist harshly to lead you out of his office. “I’ll stay next to you and watch you pack your things. You are not allowed to enter this building or have contact with one of the employers ever again.

“Y/N,” Jo gasp watching tears run down your cheeks while you toss the few belongings you brought to your working place into your bag. “What happened?”

“Lisa said I stole money,” you sniffle. “Mr. Winchdester didn’t let me prove I am innocent so she won and will get my position.”

“That’s what she wanted after all,” Jo, grunts. “I can’t believe she lied to get your job,” Dean furrows his brows at Jo, searching her face. “Shame, Y/N. How will you pay for your dad’s…” You shake your head, pressing your index finger to your friend's lips.

“I’ll find a way, always did Jo. Losing a job is not the end of the world…”

Three months later…

“I am back bitches and…” Charlie looks at your working place, wondering why Lisa Braeden sits at your place. “What the fuck happened, Jo?”

“Lisa the bitch Braeden accused Y/N she stole money from two accounts. Dean didn’t give her a chance to prove she’s innocent. Cole tried to talk to Dean but he stayed adamant. I think she works three jobs now to pay for her dad’s treatment.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Charlie yells before she waltzes toward Dean’s office. “Why did no one call me or Sam? I bet we could’ve found the culprit in no time and I am sure, it’s not Y/N.”

“Charlie, what the…,” Dean gasps when Charlie shoves him aside to get access to his computer. “Charlie?”

“Show me the accounts, now. I don’t believe Y/N stole money. If you do not give her a chance, fine, but I will check her story before judging her.”

“Fine, check it. I bet you will not find anything proving she’s innocent…” Dean enters his password, opening the accounts. “There. Money got transferred to this bank account.”

“Did you look at the time stamp Dean?” Charlie looks up at Dean, pointing toward the time stamp. “I mean, Y/N was in Melbourne with Sam, Jo, and Cole at that time. I know as we had a great video chat sleepover that night.”

“What? No, this is impossible,” Dean swallows thickly, nervously rubbing his scruffy cheek. “She could’ve accessed…oh, no…we changed the system back then. You can only access the account from the main server at this building.”

“Exactly, Mr. Winchester. Not only did you accuse the poor girl, but you also fired her. Do you know what it means to get fired by a Winchester?” Nodding Dean looks at the next account and the time stamp. “Same date and time, Dean. If anyone stole the money, it was not Y/N, Jo, or Sam. I was at Paris and I don’t think you stole the money to fire Y/N…”

Whilst Dean tries to find out where you moved to or how to apologize for not giving you a chance to prove you are innocent you work three jobs. You even had to move out of her apartment to spare money as your father’s condition got worse.

“How is he today?” Rubbing your sore eyes you look up at Alex, giving the friendly nurse a sad smile. “You look tired, Y/N.”

“Just came home from my night job, had a shower to spend a few hours here before my day job starts,” you huff, hating you lied to your father. “Dad asked why I am always tired, you know, I didn’t have the heart to tell him I got fired.”

“Whatever that guy said is wrong. I know you for three years now. Never would you steal anything, Y/N,” Alex looks at your father, giving you a soft smile. “He’s doing better, the therapy seems to help.”

“It’s worth working three jobs, I know it,” grasping for your father’s hand you gently press it to your face. “One day he’ll get better.”

“Mom, I know that I shall not mess with a Winchester, but that douche fired Y/N. You know, the girl I told you about. Her father has lung cancer, and she spends all the money she earns with three jobs for an expensive experimental treatment. You know Dean Winchester, tell him he’s an asshole for ruining the girl,” Alex angrily hangs up the phone, shaking her head at Jody’s words.

“Was that your mom?” Claire sighs, watching you sleepily read your father his favorite book. “Does the girl ever sleep?”

“Not with three jobs and her dad’s condition,” Alex explains what happened to you, your job, and Dean Winchester, unbeknownst Claire’s father is a good friend of Dean. “Poor girl will break down sooner or later…”

Dean doesn’t know if he’s allowed to enter your father's hospital room. Only stealing glances he watches you talk to your father, telling him it’s an honor to work for John Winchester’s company.

“You know the company dad. Always work, but it’s worth it, just like you said. The Winchesters are fair men,” you almost choke on your lie but your father would worry about you, and that’s the last thing he needs.

“I’m so proud of you, sugarplum,” you nod, holding back the tears when your father drifts back into sleep.

“I wish you had a reason, daddy. I’m working three lousy jobs,” pressing a soft kiss to your father's cheek you forget about your sorrows for a moment. “Get better dad, that’s all I want.”

Dean hides behind a corner when you leave your father’s room. He can see the bags under your eyes, a sign that you haven’t slept for too long. You lost weight too, just like the smile you used to ‘wear’.

“What can I get you? Whiskey, vodka, or beer?”

Dean nervously looks at you, waiting for you to recognize him at the end of the bar. You are busy explaining a drink to a customer so he must wait before you turn your attention toward him.

“What can I…?” You clench your jaw when you meet familiar green eyes, “get you, Sir?”

“Hi, erm…uh, beer would be fine, Y/N,” he stammers pointing toward the other guest. “Some nuts too?”

“Sure,” turning around you take deep breaths. You hate Dean Winchester, but you can’t lose one of your jobs, so you place a beer and nuts in front of him. “Anything else, Sir?”

“Y/N, when do you get off? I’d like to talk to you,” you wipe your hands at your jeans, not meeting Dean’s gaze.

“Sir, I have to ask you to not use my forename. It’s Ms. Y/L/N or bartender to you. If you excuse me now, I can’t lose another job because of you,” you jerk your head toward two waiting customers. “Other people want to have a drink too. Goodnight, Sir.”

“Y/N, damnit,” grumbling Dean moves to the other end of the bar, looking at you, expectantly. “I want another drink, no, the whole bottle, and your company.” He places his wallet onto the counter, slamming two-hundred bucks onto the counter. “Stay.”

“I got no time, okay. If you want to sue me or call the cops for the lies Lisa told about me, do so,” with two fingers you shove the money toward Dean, glaring at your former boss. “I don’t need or want your dirty money. Go and spend it at someone else.”

“Sweetheart,” Dean tries, “Charlie proved it wasn’t you who manipulated the accounts of our customers. I’m sorry for not giving you a chance.”

“Not giving me a chance?” You toss the dishtowel you use to clean the counter into Dean’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me? I lost my reputation thanks to you. I work at night at a bar, clean toilets during the day, and in the morning, I work at a diner barely making any money. Sorry doesn’t fix shit, you son of a bitch!” Emptying the bottle of Whiskey over Dean’s face you nod at your boss who mouths ‘you are fired’. “Fuck you, Winchester…”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you a stalker? Do I need to call the cops to get you off my back? Is making my life even more miserable your new hobby?” Brushing past Dean who waited for you at your father’s house you ignore he tries to talk to you.

“Y/N, please wait. I made a dumb mistake. I never wanted you to lose your job or reputation. Lisa came to me, showing me, the accounts and I did not check the date, okay. I should’ve looked closer at the data, but I was so mad. I wanted you to be the new head of the financial department. I felt betrayed, sweetheart.” Dean grasps for your hand, not wanting you to believe he fired you on purpose.

“I’m not your sweetheart, Winchester. My name is Y/N, not sweetheart, baby girl, or the other shit you call your secretaries. I might not own money, a house, or fancy shit but I got dignity, which means I do not have to listen to your stupid pet names for me.”

“I apologize for the pet names, sw…Y/N. Please, let’s go inside and talk about the data, Lisa’s lies, and the stolen money. Dad, he told me to get you back.”

“Your father?” Not believing John Winchester even knows you exist you blink a few times. “Why should he want me to come back? I don’t think he remembers we ever talked.”

“You’re wrong. My father, he remembers your work, the data you handed him just in time for a big deal. John Winchester only remembers people impressing him. You are one of them.”

“John Winchester remembers me…” Mumbling the words you smile. “I’ll tell my dad John Winchester remembered me.”

“Can we talk now? I’d like to have my best worker back. I will do anything to make it up to you,” Dean offers, holding out his hand. “Let me prove I can be fair.”

“I need to sleep for my job in the morning. Maybe I find some spare time between my job at the diner and my cleaning job,” you turn on your heels, looking for your keys. “If you excuse me now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Jesus, sweetheart you are hard to crack. Shall I fall to my knees?” Angrily turning around, you glare at Dean.

“You don’t get it.” You slap his cheek harshly. “It’s not about losing about a job, it’s so much more. I invested five years into your fathers’ company. I spend more time at my desk than with friends or dating. My father was proud of me. I could pay his bills from the hospital.”

“We can find a way to help you, Y/N. Let me…”

“I am not done!” Your angry eyes meet Dean’s, and he gulps, not knowing if he shall be turned on by or scared of you. Suddenly my job was gone, my home too, just like the reputation I build for years. I lost everything as you used your downstairs brain.”

“What the…oh-I get it,” Dean huffs, hanging his head in shame. “You know about me and Lisa. It was after a Christmas party. I got drunk and you know the rest.”

“Only as you banged her doesn’t mean you had to believe her lies. You could’ve handled the situation like a Winchester. Sam or your father would’ve checked the data and not believe that woman.”

Dean nods, taking your hand to squeeze it tightly. “I’m honestly sorry, Y/N. I should’ve treated you with respect and checked the data. I promise to do better if you give me a chance and come back. Work for us again and you’ll get the respect and position you deserve,” you consider Dean’s proposal, glancing at your watch.

“No pet names,” Dean nods, laughing at your angry expression. “I mean it. Not all girls like to get called sweetheart at work.”

“Okay, noted, Y/N. No pet names at work,” he grins now, looking at your hand in his. “Maybe one day I can call you sweetheart outside of work…”

“You can dream, Winchester…you can dream…”

Part 2

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