ELEANOR POV
"She's too short."
"Selling perfume doesn't require height, Johnny!" I lash out, my hands gesturing wildly around the boutique.
"It sure does," he counters smoothly. "Or are you going to come back and pay out of pocket when she's unable to reach the top shelf and breaks a bottle of imported Chanel?"
"Do you even hear yourself?!" I am past screaming. I am practically tearing down the shop with my pacing while he relaxes into his chair, a half-eaten bowl of ice cream resting on the counter in front of him.
"Are you trying to stop me from resigning? Because heaven knows if I complete this week, I'm leaving regardless of whether you have a body in this chair or not!"
"You just think you're important, Eleanor, but you're—"
"SHUUUUUUUT UUUUUUP! I am so sick and tired of you!"
