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The floating screen before me projects an image of Tzelik sitting in his office chair, the sun shining brightly through the huge windows behind him while he rifles through his draws. “I need you to tell me something quickly.”
“Of course, sir,” I say, thinking that I should have brought my holo-note out here with me.
“What are your measurements?”
“My…excuse me?”
“Your clothing measurements, Miss Martin, what are they?” He lifts up from where he was bent over his bottom drawer with a sigh. “Have you seen where I put my signature pen?”
“On the bookshelf right there behind you,” I say absently, frowning as he turns around and notices the pen with a satisfied little, “Ah!”
“Sir…are you joking about the measurements?”
“Of course not. And hurry up, will you, I’ve got a meeting in three minutes with a journalist from The Weekly which you forgot to re-schedule.”
“I didn’t—you never told me to re-schedule!”
“Miss Martin, your measurements, please.”
“I don’t know!Do you think I get my clothes tailor-made or something?”
He pauses his movements when he hears me raise my voice, leaning back in his plush, dark leather seat. If I didn’t know any better, I’d even say his lips were threatening to pull into a smile. “Alright, well, tell Kyrin that I’ll be sending my tailor down to measure you later this afternoon, so—”
“What?” Oh, he’s definitely holding back a smile, the smug bastard. “Don’t! If you make me wear a uniform, I will quit on you. I don’t care if I have to work as a janitor for the rest of my freaking life!”
“You will allow my tailor to measure you, or I will fire her and ensure that she cannot ever work on this planet again.”
“Sir!”
His blue eyes absolutely shine as he watches me through the screen. “Have a pleasant afternoon, Miss Martin.”
And he hangs up before I can say anything else.
