th Mrs. Jenkins in my head, my anger mixing with a strange sense of disillusionment. Had I been th

cus on a transition plan for my team,

is here to see you. She says

ibs. "I told her not to come b

ent, ma'am. She sa

ant a scene in the lobby. "Fine. Sen

ns standing there, a large, expensive-looking designer handbag clutch

ce thick with fake emotion. "I wasn't myself. I was just scare

opular, high-end brand, one I'd ca

at her. "I don't wa

aw it and thought of you. It cost me a fo

austed and wanted her gone. "Fine. T

little thing. I had to put it on my credit card, and things are a little tight. It was

ag was expensive, but I was fairly certain it wasn't that exp

oice dangerously neutral. "Th

e insisted, her eyes darting around nervously

vete had been burned away by our last conversation. I

ure, but I can't accept this," I

t why not? I thoug

ins," I said calmly. "You're trying to

go out of my way to buy you something beautiful, and you accuse me of being a thi

the attempt to twist the situation and make me

w me the receipt. Show me the credit card statement t

I... I don't have it on me.

. "That doesn't sound right. You can pull it up on your phone, can't you? The boutiq

d. "This is an interrogation! I do

one. I walked over to my own purse, pulled out my phone, and quickly sear

r. The screen showed the exact same

d aloud. "That's the retail price, Mrs.

she knew it. The silence in the room was heavy, bro

said, my voice low and filled with contempt. "After I fired you for tryin

g from my hands, her fa

oney! I don't want

re not getting anything. This bag is your property. My home is my propert

thout another word, she turned and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the frame shuddere