Kick her out of your office.

“Now get the hell out of my office,” you say. “I have work to do.”

Doe doesn’t move from where she fell, looking thoroughly miserable. A fit of coughing seizes her, and she spits a dollop of mixed come and saliva onto the carpet. “I hate you, John,” she says.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you reply. You pull up your undershorts and pants, and get yourself squared away. Besides being sweaty and spent, you don’t look that much worse for wear. Doe cannot say the same. “Get yourself cleaned up and go.”

You sit down at your desk and pointedly ignore Doe as she tries to pull herself together and leave. Finally you hear her head for the door of your office, and you say, “Doe? This isn’t over. I expect to see you at the end of business today. You can meet me here. All right?”

There’s a long pause, and you wonder what’s going through Doe’s mind at the moment. Finally, she says, “Yes, John.”

You smile without looking up. “That’s a good girl, Doe. Never make a bet you can’t pay.”

The office door opens.

“And this is just day one,” you say. “See you later, Doe. Try to have a good day.”