Piwitti packed her computer charger into her black purse, doing a double check that she had the files, a backup battery, her empty water bottle, and her flights confirmation number.
The number wasn’t in there.
“Amity!” she bellowed. “Where the FUCK is my confirmation number!”
Amity dashed in, her own arms full of file folders as she tried to shove them into a large tote bag for the plane. The idiot girl hadn’t done all of the tasks that Piwitti had assigned.
“It should be in your inbox, doctor.” She panted.
“It’s not there and it’s not in my purse!” Piwitti flipped the papers in her inbox tray, impatiently, the papers making a “zzzziiiippp” sound against her finger nail.
“The inbox of your smartphone.” Amity blinked. “It’s all digital, Doctor.”
Piwitti huffed and pulled out the small screen, flipping through emails. There it was; a forward from Amity with her flight confirmation.
“Ah.” Piwitti blinked. “I apologize. That was rude of me. I guess I’m just very on edge about this presentation.” She rubbed her face, her fingers going up under her glasses. She heard Amity approach and looked again. The girl was at the edge of her desk, her eyes wide and her body trembling.
“It's understandable to be nervous, Doctor. However I'm not the one to take our your anger on.”
The little bitch was standing up for herself. Piwitti’s heart started hammering, her blood running cold, her palms itching.
“I understand that.” She hissed through her teeth, trying to keep herself under control. “However, neglecting to hand me a print version of my confirmation number, as is division protocol, is a direct violation and I'm afraid we will have to let you go.” Piwitti’s stomach fluttered in delight as the girls face paled.
“Doctor I meant no disrespect,” Amity squeaked. “However I am allowed to stick up for myself without fear of losing my job, especially…”
“Yes,” Piwitti snapped, trying to keep a gleeful smile from her face. The little bitch had it coming for weeks. “However, this isn't about you standing up for yourself, as I have clearly stated it's about my confirmation number and the other infractions you have occurred.”
“Like what?” Amity was actually getting angry, her small frame vibrating and her face reddening.
“Leaving your desk on multiple occasions with confidentiality files on it, for one!” Piwitti raised her voice slightly. “Along with long lunches and several tardy days.”
“I had sick hours for those days and called ahead! Those are the rules and I followed them.”
“No defense for the files on your desk?” Piwitti beamed. “None for the long lunches? How about you stealing from the division?”
“I have done no such thing!” she shouted.
“You have been stealing pens and paper from day one! I often see them in your purse!”
“Because you call me at every hour of the night and I use them to write down what you bark at me at two in the morning!”
“Get out before I call security! I will ake sure they search your bag for files and division property on the way out!”
“Good! Amity shouted, tossing the files out of her purse and onto the floor, along with two pens; one red and one black. “You can get someone else to harass at god-awful in the morning. And I can go to press with everything I know!”
“You can TRY.” Piwitti hissed. “But someone will hush you up.”
“Good. Fuckjng. Luck. BITCH!” Amity stormed out.
It took Piwtti three hours and several bourbons to calm down on her way to the airport. She'd made sure to call security before Amity got to the bottom floor. She knew they would take care of her, but the girls words bothered the doctor.
She sat in the airport lounge, swirling her fourth bourbon on the rocks. This was much more than she normally drank, so the idea that came into her head dawned slowly.
She blearily pulled out her phone and tried to remember the digits. Couldn't have this number in her phone. Would have to delete it from her phone right after, get someone to take it off her call log. Warrants would be needed. Again.
“Da.” The curt sound of The Duchesses voice came through the receiver.
“Hello, Becky.” Piwitti used the code name she had for her. “You would not believe the day I'm having. I had to fire my assistant.”
“What do you need me to do about it?”
“I understand this is a bad time.” The Words cam easily. Maybe the alcohol and the code made it easier to delete someone. “Go and bathe your kids and call me back.”
“It will be done.” The Duchess hung up first. Piwitti sighed and tossed her phone into her purse at her feet and polished off her bourbon.
Amity would be dead by the morning. Water would play a part. There was some poetry in there somewhere.
Piwitti ordered a coffee and plugged herself into her phone and listened to music while she waited to board.