Citas
But first, the books.
You’re firing me? Seriously?’
Emily slumped back in the chair and folded her arms.
‘I wouldn’t say firing, exactly.’ He pressed his hands together in a prayer-like pose under his chin and fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘With regret, I am making you redundant.’
‘With regret? That’s what Lord Sugar always says in The Apprentice, when he fires people.’
‘It isn’t personal. We’re having to let a few people go.’
She stood up. ‘How? How can this not be personal?’
‘Do you think you could keep your voice down a little, please? We don’t want everyone to hear now, do we?’ He stood up too and walked past her to the windows that separated his private office from the rest of the open-plan area. She turned to watch as he closed the venetian blinds, obliterating the view of Annie from Accounts who was staring, open-mouthed. Annie would probably put a glass to the wall if she thought she could get away with it. Not that you needed a glass with these walls; they were paper-thin.
He turned back to Emily, put a hand on
Emily slumped back in the chair and folded her arms.
‘I wouldn’t say firing, exactly.’ He pressed his hands together in a prayer-like pose under his chin and fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘With regret, I am making you redundant.’
‘With regret? That’s what Lord Sugar always says in The Apprentice, when he fires people.’
‘It isn’t personal. We’re having to let a few people go.’
She stood up. ‘How? How can this not be personal?’
‘Do you think you could keep your voice down a little, please? We don’t want everyone to hear now, do we?’ He stood up too and walked past her to the windows that separated his private office from the rest of the open-plan area. She turned to watch as he closed the venetian blinds, obliterating the view of Annie from Accounts who was staring, open-mouthed. Annie would probably put a glass to the wall if she thought she could get away with it. Not that you needed a glass with these walls; they were paper-thin.
He turned back to Emily, put a hand on
Most teenagers, if asked how they’d spend their ideal summer, would say surfing on a Cornish beach or backpacking round Europe or even just hanging out with their mates.
Not many would choose working as a waitress, especially not in the same café as their mother.
But Emily was having her best summer ever.
Mind you, she was looking forward to going back to school; she needed a rest.
She arrived home most evenings with an aching back, an aching head from adding up bills all day – the café needed a new till but that would have to wait until the owner got back – and aching feet despite wearing flat shoes. Granny shoes, she thought on her first day, hoping that none of her classmates would come in and see her. But Mum had been right to insist that she wore them; you definitely needed comfy soles in a job like this.
They’d forgone their usual fortnight in Devon. Dad hadn’t minded. ‘There’ll be plenty more summers for family holidays,’ he’d said, though he knew in his heart of hearts that wasn’t strictly true; his little girl was growing
Not many would choose working as a waitress, especially not in the same café as their mother.
But Emily was having her best summer ever.
Mind you, she was looking forward to going back to school; she needed a rest.
She arrived home most evenings with an aching back, an aching head from adding up bills all day – the café needed a new till but that would have to wait until the owner got back – and aching feet despite wearing flat shoes. Granny shoes, she thought on her first day, hoping that none of her classmates would come in and see her. But Mum had been right to insist that she wore them; you definitely needed comfy soles in a job like this.
They’d forgone their usual fortnight in Devon. Dad hadn’t minded. ‘There’ll be plenty more summers for family holidays,’ he’d said, though he knew in his heart of hearts that wasn’t strictly true; his little girl was growing
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