He's had enough of this tardiness.

His 'office' of course in this mall boutique is a stockroom piled high with boxes of products and with his desk wedged into a space in the corner.

"Why were you late this morning?" He takes his seat, the only seat, leaving you standing in your jeans and fitted blouse (both this season's lines of course) playing with your hands nervously.

"Jeff, I'm so sorry it was crazy these... some people came to my apartment about a problem and... and I couldn't get rid of them." It's an OK excuse, you don't like to lie, but if he pushes you, you'll make up something about a water leak or something.

"You're a good girl, Holly," he starts, "you work hard when you're here and you... you really look the part." There's that off-handed inappropriateness, he was looking right at the way your tight blouse stretches across your sizable cleavage as he said that. "But you've been late six times already this year." Usually it's because you're seeing to an experiment at the lab of course. "You know, the company policy is to fire part-timers after FOUR lates. I don't know that I can cut you slack anymore."

FUCK! Fuck this is so unfair! Now, you need money more than ever and your asshole boss is going to fire you for being late for talking to these thugs and... how did you ever get into this mess. Your skin prickles, you feel yourself getting hot and tears start to rush to your eyes for the second time today. Jeff isn't an idiot, he notices.

"Oh... oh hey now Holly, no need to take it that..."

"SNIFF- Oh God, oh please don't fire me!" you half say, half sob. "I really, it really wasn't -SNIFF- my f-f-fault it was these... it was this... I j-just... I really need the money right now." You feel the heat of your tears running down your cheeks. "I can't get fired! I j-just -SNIFF- can't! I need the money so bad! I'm in... in big trouble, please Jeff!" You raise your gaze from the floor and fix him with an imploring, tear-filled look, pushing a strand of your hair out of your eyes before it gets stuck there with your tears.

"Woah! Woah! Ok, ok." Your heart surges; he'll give you another chance? "I won't fire you this time! But c'mon. No more lates." You sniffle a thank-you and find a tissue to start wiping at your eyes. But Jeff is looking at you in a weird way now. How **** did you sound just then, you wonder. Pretty damn ****, right?