I grabbed a fresh pair of chopsticks and handed them to Fiona. "Eat. You love eating so much, don't you?"
Fiona took them and kept forcing food into her mouth, barely able to swallow. She gagged with every bite.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She doubled over and threw up.
Job burst into tears, rubbing her back with one hand while jabbing a finger at me with the other.
"You don't deserve to be Director Prescott's husband! You're no help to her whatsoever. All you do is throw tantrums and make her life miserable!"
"I don't deserve her? And you do? Ready to take my place already?"
"Director Prescott and I have a perfectly professional working relationship. Don't you dare slander us!"
"Prove it. Why don't you resign?"
"Why should I resign? I'm doing a great job here."
"You're fired."
Job froze. Then his face crumpled into a look of barely contained tears, his voice trembling and drawn out in a pitiful whine.
"Director Prescott..."
Fiona, who had never once raised her voice at me, slammed her palm on the table and shot to her feet. "Rolf, you have no authority to fire my employees!"
I walked straight up to Job and slapped him across the face. Twice.
"Pathetic little homewrecker."