Sighing in defeat, she tossed her pen onto the desk and rubbed at her eyes. She had been staring at the same log for two hours, and she was no closer to finding the discrepancy then when she started. In fact, if it were possible, she was even further behind. She had scoured over each deposit and withdraw until the numbers had blurred together and had found nothing. Yet, she knew it was there. For a moment, she had wondered if it was her mind playing tricks on her, and then she had taken a second look - then a third. It had remained the same. Five thousand dollars. Disappointment didn’t begin to define the emotion building her chest.
Claire, what are you doing?
She hated to think the worse of her employee, and yet all the signs pointed to her. She couldn’t have been more obvious if she had worn a blaring neon sign that flickered ‘I did it!’ She had tried to overlook the changes in her attitude - or the fact that was dressing far above her means - but she couldn’t. Shaking her head, she pushed from the desk and stretched, her back screaming in protest as the tense muscles were forced out of their crouched position. “There’s nothing more I can do tonight,” she muttered as she slammed the log closed and tucked it under her arm. The thought of what she had to do weighed heavily on her mind, and without the proof she needed, she knew she was in for a battle.
Stepping from the office, she made her way to the front where the blonde was leaning against the counter, twirling a piece of gum around a slender finger. At least the store is quiet, she thought as she dropped the book in front of the woman. “We need to talk.” In an instant, the sweetness to her voice had evaporated, replaced with the hard authority that she hated. Holding onto the fire inside of her, she leaned over and yanked the magazine from beneath her hand and tossed it into the trash, earning the attention - and ire - of her oldest [and only] employee. “What the hell was that about?” The demand was harsh, and she stepped back when the woman stood.
Height was clearly a disadvantage - her, at five three and Claire at nearly six foot - but she refused to let it intimidate her. At least, she tried not to. She could feel the panic build in her chest and blossom through her bones, making her muscles heavy. Forcing herself to calm, she narrowed her eyes on the woman. “That was me getting your attention. Now that I have it, this should be easy. Claire, you’re fired.” The words slipped easily from her tongue, and she felt relieved. It was short lived, however, when the woman scoffed and leaned down, her face close enough that she could smell the whiskey and bubblegum on her breath. “Nice try, buttercup. You fire me, I’ll go to the press about you.” The threat was so quietly spoken, she would have missed it - had she not been graced with inhuman senses. For a moment, she was too stunned to speak, and she had to force her features to remain impassive as her mind worked quickly.
“About me? What in the world could you possibly have on me?” Shaking her head, she laughed off the notion as if it were the best joke she had heard in her life. It seemed to work, as the woman stepped back and frowned. It was clear she had expected an entirely different reaction, and she watched as her pretty face twisted into something hideous. Her plan was falling apart before her eyes - and she was furious.
“Oh, please. You’re going to try to lie? I saw you! You’re a drug addict.”
In a second, her world seemed to stop. At first, she wasn’t positive that she had heard her correctly. Drug addict? The silence drew between them as they stared at each other, and she could tell by the widening of her eyes that she thought she had won. It wasn’t until she gave that poisonous smile that she lost control. The laughter had her doubling over, and she pressed her hand to the counter to stop from falling completely to the floor. “Oh, that’s perfect, doll. The best thing I’ve heard all day. Go ahead, tell them I’m a drug addict. Really,” she urged, before shaking her head. It didn’t take long for her to calm herself, and she motioned towards the exit. “I’ll have my lawyer be in touch,” she smiled.
Watching the realization dawn in her eyes was priceless, and she took a quick step back as the blonde pivoted on her heel with a loud huff. The sound sent another wave of stale alcohol in her direction, and she fought the urge to wave her hand in front of her face. Resting her hip against the counter, she crossed her arms over her chest and watched the woman stalk off, the door to Temptation slamming shut with glass shaking force. “Well, that could have gone better,” she sighed, before pulling her iPhone from the drawer. I might as well go even further out of my comfort zone, she chuckled to herself, her finger sliding across the glass until she brought up Nishaa’s name.
[Text] Hey, It’s Caligrace, Freyja’s childe. She suggested that we meet. If you want, I’m at work. You can stop by. Temptation - it’s in Redwood. You can’t miss it! xoxo
Once the message was sent, she tossed the phone onto the counter and dropped her head into her hands. She was now a cashier short - and she hadn’t been able to afford that in the first place. However, the more pressing issue was how she was going to handle Claire. She knew that the woman wouldn’t go quietly - she had seen the promise of retaliation in her eyes. With a quiet sigh, she picked her phone back up and found her sire's name. There was a time where she would have handled the situation on her own, yet something warned her that it was going to be out of her element. The thought of having to spend more time with Claire than necessary caused her chest to tighten, and that little warning bell sounded in the back of her mind. I knew she was trouble the moment she walked in the store. This is what pity gets me, she sighed, her fingers quickly tapping out the text.
[Text] I need you to take care of something for me. I’ll explain when I get home. Love you! xoxo
She wasn't even sure when the woman would receive it - she tended to leave the device anywhere but on her person most nights. Chuckling to herself, she dropped the phone back to the counter and rested in the seat, her heel dangling loosely from her toe as she tapped it against the counter. Now that she had lifted the burden of her employee off her chest, the night seemed far less bleak. Reaching over, she hit a few keys on her the computer's keyboard, Taylor Swift instantly beginning to play from the speakers. There, that's better. Grinning to herself, she picked up the nearest pen and opened her journal, the orange ink filling the pages as she waited to see if the strange 'dark woman' responded before closing.
