I could only hope that my luck would hold out and I’d have a quiet day at work, with minimal instances of undesired screaming.
* * *
***
* * *
“She slapped me!” Lord Adderby declared, his jowls wobbling as he raged, reminding me in no small way of a flustered walrus. “That woman is lucky I haven’t called the police! The nerve of that girl, laying her hand on one of her betters like that!”
“Calm yourself, Lord Adderby,” I said, rubbing the bridge of my nose. It took every ounce of my self-control not to slap the man myself. This was true for any unfortunate instance where the two of us had to occupy the same space, let alone have his spittle threatening to land right on my glasses whenever he spoke. “I’m sure we can work this all out.”
“I’ll tell you what we’ll work out,” he said, his face reddening with every word. “I want another match! A respectable match! And you’ll have her name to me today before I set foot out of that door, young lady!”
“My lord, your tone isn’t helping this situation,” I said, my patience already worn thin by his lordship’s inability to mind the expulsions from his mouth. It was exactly this kind of situation that made me lament giving up coffee only a week before. “I’m sure we can talk to Miss Fairchild and sort all of this out, if you would perhaps only apologize to her for whatever offence—”
“Me? Apologize to her? Absolutely not!” he spluttered. “And as for my tone, I will not have a girl of your station—no matter the breeding of your stepfather—tell me anything to do with tone! I’ll have that little bitch brought up on charges!”
I clenched my fists, tightening my lips into a thin line as I felt the limits of my tolerance breaking like a levy in a storm. If there was one thing I disliked—no, hated—more than anything it was the word “bitch,” especially in regards to a fellow woman. Second would be the implication that my own authority was somehow determined by the marriage of my mother.
“Get out,” I said, my voice coming out much louder than I had imagined that it would. I could feel my heart pounding like a drum, thudding in time to the bubbling anger that was given my voice its steely tone.
“I beg your pardon?” Lord Adderby said, blinking with incredulity. He seemed to regard me fully for the first time since I had walked into my office and he had started his insufferable tirade. “Just who do you think you are?”
“I think that I am the proprietor of this business, Lord Adderby,” I said, my jaw set as I looked the old fossil directly in his drooping eyes, “and that I have instructed you to leave this instant. From this moment forward, you will no longer be receiving my services in your romantic endeavors.”
“How dare you?” the blustering tub of lard asked, stomping his foot like a spoiled child. “I have never received such disrespect in all my years! Do you even realize the repercussions that this will have on you, young lady? Why, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll never be able—”
I held my hand out in front of his face, silencing him almost immediately. His mouth closed with a snap and I watched as his face turned from a deep scarlet to almost bruise-like purple around his cheeks.
“Leave, Lord Adderby, before I have you removed by building security.”
“This is an outrage!” he cried, mouth agape and face contorted, as though he could hardly believe that I’d make such a threat. He turned on his heel and wobbled toward the elevator with his considerable girth, shouting the whole way. “You’ll pay for such insolence!”
Once his sagging, scowling face had disappeared behind the elevator doors, I turned my attention toward my assistant, doing my best to curb my already considerable frustration. I took a deep, slow breath through my nose before I slowly let it out through my mouth, trying my best to even out my tone before I opened my mouth again.
“What happened?” I asked, my words crisp, though considerably less sharp than they had been with Lord Adderby. Tina didn’t deserve my ire, as I was sure she got more of the brunt of that walrus’s screaming than I had.
“It appears that his lordship made untoward passes at Ms. Fairchild on their… ‘date’ last night,” Tina said, a frown affixed to her face. “When his lordship didn’t relent, Ms. Fairchild struck him across the cheek with her open hand, picked up her belongings, and left.”
“I see,” I said, once again attempting to keep my frustrations in check. “Make sure that Ms. Fairchild is sent flowers as an apology from us, and a letter apologizing specifically for facilitating her unfortunate encounter. I’ve had enough of cleaning up that old bastard’s messes for the past year.”