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Hirola Achigo. Why'd she get stuck with the stupid name? And why could nosoul pronounce it right?
And why did sound so obnoxious when The Dom was 'yelling' it?
He didn't really YELL, so much as whisper threateningly. It scared the death out of her.
That British kid had been so wide, even in death, that she'd had to put him in the coffin sideways.
"Hirola."
She jumped and whacked her head on the ceiling. "Wha-wha - Hi, Boss Man."
Dom cocked his head, putting his smirk at an even MORE unflattering angle. "Hirola. Miss Achigo. Cutie. Your sales are low."
"I know, I know, boss, but-" "Man." "Right, so sorry, Boss Man, but the kid was buried with nothing - British tradition, and he was young anyway-" "You're going to be demoted if your sales aren't doubled by the next report." "Next - Mr. Hurley, that's only two weeks away!"
"Yeah, babe, it is. But I'm sure I could find you a position as my, ahem, SECRETARY if you can't make it." He flashed her a poisonous grin and walked off with style.
Hirola was glad she hadn't needed to eat for a few months - otherwise the elevator-turned-tube-minder demon would be seriously ticked at her for the mess on the floor.
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