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Erin stormed off, ready to kick Deanna's door off its hinges if that Bitch dared lock it. In plain and simple terms, she had been humiliated. Embarrassed. In front of a stranger. The rage reached tipping point. If she did not calm down before speaking to Deanna...

Too late. The door was open. No kicking the door in Criminal Minds style.

"What the fuck, Deanna? Was all that really fucking neccesary?" She stormed into the office, not bothering to knock.

Deanna looked up from the computer screen. Her eyes were cold. When she spoke her words were quiet, but fierce. "What the fuck this is, Ms Prince, is MY practice. It says Deanna Wilson on the tacky brass plaque outside. I am still your employer. And you will either follow my instruction to the letter, or you can look for employ elsewhere." She returned her focus to the screen. "Is there anything else you want?"

Oh, touché. "No, thank you. I..." Fuming, Erin returned to the reception area, deflated and her pride in tatters. The can of Coke was still left there.

She slumped into the chair, put the beverage in her bag and tried to forget what was an awefull morning.

...

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