A Simple Favor for a Stranger at Work Backfired Badly

Hello Readers, throwaway for obvious reasons—this could still get back to my old workplace, and I don’t need the drama resurfacing. I’ve been out of that job for four months now, but I still get anxiety thinking about it. What started as a quick, innocent favor for a new coworker in June 2025 turned into a nightmare of harassment, accusations, and office politics that forced me to quit by October. I thought I was just being helpful; instead, it exposed how one small act of kindness can be twisted into something sinister. This is the full story—buckle up, it’s a long one.

I’m 28F, a marketing coordinator at a mid-sized ad agency in Chicago. I’d been there three years—good team, creative projects, the kind of place where we had happy hours and inside jokes. I’m the “nice one”: always willing to cover a shift, share templates, help with deadlines. No enemies, or so I thought. Single, live alone in a studio downtown, close friends outside work.

The “stranger” was “Kyle,” 26M, who started as a junior copywriter in May 2025. Tall, charming, always smiling, quick with compliments. He was new to the city, said he moved from LA for a fresh start. Sat near me in the open office. We chatted casually—favorite spots for lunch, Netflix recommendations—but nothing deep. He seemed eager to fit in.

The favor happened June 12, a Wednesday. Busy day—client pitch prep, everyone scrambling. Around 5:30 p.m., most people had left. I was finishing an email when Kyle came over, looking flustered.

“Hey, sorry to bug you—I’m in a bind. My laptop crashed, IT won’t answer, and I have a deck due by 8 a.m. tomorrow. Could I borrow yours for like 10 minutes? I just need to grab my files from the shared drive and email them to myself. You can watch me the whole time.”

Company policy is clear: no sharing devices or logins. But the office was empty, he looked desperate, and it was the shared drive—nothing sensitive. I thought: it’s quick, he’s new, be a team player.

“Sure,” I said. “But stay on the drive only. Don’t open anything else.”

He nodded gratefully, sat at my desk. I stood behind him. He opened the drive, navigated to his folder, downloaded a few docs, attached them to an email from his personal Gmail, sent it. Thanked me three times, left.

I logged out, shut down, went home. Forgot about it.

That should have been the end.

Two days later: Kyle Slacked me: “Thanks again—you saved my life! Beers after work sometime? My treat.”

I replied politely: “No problem, glad it helped. Busy this week, but maybe!”

He liked the message.

Next week: he started stopping by my desk. “Hey, what did you think of that show we talked about?” “You look nice today—new haircut?”

Flirty, but subtle. I kept it professional—short answers, focused on work.

July: he asked for another favor—review his copy for a pitch. I did; it was good. He sent a coffee gift card via email: “For the best mentor!”

I accepted, but felt off. Told my work friend “Lena”: “New guy’s a bit much.” She laughed: “He’s harmless—probably has a crush.”

August: things got weird.

Kyle started referencing personal stuff. “Saw on your LinkedIn you went to UCLA—me too! Class of ‘21.” (I’d never mentioned it.)

Then: “You live in Lincoln Park, right? Saw a cool bar there—want to check it out?”

How did he know my neighborhood?

I asked: “How’d you know where I live?”

He laughed: “Oh, from your email signature or something? Or maybe you mentioned it.”

No, I hadn’t.

I started avoiding him. Short Slacks, no small talk.

September: escalation.

Anonymous office Slack message to me: “You’re cute when you’re focused. —Secret Admirer”

I ignored it.

Then gifts on my desk: chocolate (“Sweet like you”), a notebook (“For your ideas”).

No name, but I knew.

I confronted him privately: “Kyle, if this is you, please stop. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

He looked shocked. “What? No, I’d never. But… do you think I’m cute too?”

I said firmly: “No. And if it’s you, it stops now.”

He apologized, said it wasn’t him.

But it didn’t stop.

October: worse.

Emails from a burner address: photos of me at my desk (taken from afar), “Miss seeing that smile.”

Then a package at my home address: flowers, card “Thinking of you. —K”

How did he get my address?

I went to HR October 15.

Told them everything: the favors, the flirting, the gifts, the emails.

They took notes, said they’d investigate discreetly.

Kyle was called in that afternoon.

His story: I’d been the one flirting with him since day one. I’d lent him my laptop to “get close,” initiated personal convos, sent the gifts to myself to frame him.

HR checked cameras—showed me standing over him during the laptop use, “supervising closely.”

My Slack history: friendly messages that could be read as flirty if twisted.

No proof for the anonymous stuff.

HR’s conclusion: “Inconclusive. We’ll monitor. Be professional.”

No consequences.

The office turned.

Whispers: “She’s obsessed with the new guy.” “Classic HR drama.”

Lena distanced herself: “I don’t want to get involved.”

Clients got reassigned “for balance.”

I felt isolated, watched.

November: a final email—“If you ignore me, I’ll make sure everyone knows who you really are.”

I quit November 20.

Gave two weeks, but HR let me go early with pay.

Police said no crime without threats.

New job starts next month—remote, different city.

A simple favor for a stranger at work—lending my laptop—backfired badly.

Because some people take kindness as an invitation.

And workplaces protect the status quo over the truth.

I’m wiser now. No favors that break rules. Boundaries first.

Trust your gut when “nice” feels off.

It might save you a nightmare.

Thanks for reading. Needed to vent this somewhere safe.