"You're right. I hold no title at this company, so I can't fire him. But as your husband, I have every right to slap him."
Fiona immediately pulled the sobbing Job into her arms. "Rolf, you've gone too far!"
Perhaps before, when I'd caught her eating Job's leftovers, she'd still felt a shred of guilt toward me.
Now, that shred was gone.
"This is what happens when I spoil you too much. You think you can do whatever you want!"
"As punishment, I'm cutting off every single one of your cards!"
Job, who had been weeping just seconds ago, heard the words every single one of your cards and the corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably.
"That seems a bit harsh, Director Prescott. After all, Mr. Henson is the one hosting tonight's dinner. If you cancel all his cards, how's he supposed to pay the bill?"
"A meal like this has to run well over a thousand dollars. That's enough for a criminal charge. If Mr. Henson can't settle up, the police might just haul him away."
Fiona took a deep breath. "Rolf, apologize to Job. Do that, and I'll let tonight go."
"Apologize to him? Have you lost your mind, or have I?"