Penelope Martin skimmed through her new work assignment as her lips sucked the milkshake from the glass through the slim straw. Sitting at a booth in Steak N Shake, she glared up at her thirty-one year old boss, Henry. He wasn't horrible in the looks department Penelope thought to herself penalty of times. Behind her mental walls, of course since Henry can correctly guess what people are thinking. "It's not mind reading," he explained to her once. "It's more like I can read people's body language and read the lies in their eyes."
"Remind me to never go into a dark alley alone with you," She commented, staring at her boss as he rolled his eyes.
"Har har har," he replied. "You're so hilarious."
"Thank you. Thank you very much." She winked as she impersonated Elvis Presley.
"Smart ass." He replied once more as he laid his head on the table, waiting until the waitress took his order. Since he arrived an hour later than Penelope, Henry had gotten impatient. Tapping his finger nails against the booth's table top every now and then. But after about twenty-five minutes, he gave that up to just silently bitch about how Steak N Shake's waitresses and waiters suck at their jobs.
"Grab their attention somehow, boss." Penelope suggested.
Shooting her a glare of a thousand daggers, he sighed impatiently and mumbled childishly, then stuck out his tongue.
"That's very attractive, boss." She commented sarcastically admitted to her 'mature' boss.
"Shut the fuck up, 'Lope." He commanded.
"Not my fault that you're always late," she continued, "You're, after all, always bitchy in the morning."
"Fuck, how many years have you been working for me exactly, 'Lope?"
"Six year, boss." She answered truthfully, shrugging her shoulders.
"Well, fuck me sideways." He rested his palm under his chin, glaring at Penelope.
"No thanks, boss. That's gross," She looked around at all the disapproval stares that she received from many of the parents of children in Steak N Shake, "Tone the language down a bit, will you?" she growled, "There's children around."
Glancing over his shoulder, he turned back toward Penelope and grinned, "Let the little bastards listen and learn."
Slamming her hands down on the table top of the booth, she hissed, "You're seriously getting on my nerves, Henry Matthew Scott!"
"Oh, the full name treatment." he visibly shivered.
"If you're going to be an asshole," she growled under her breath. "I will be forced to duct tape your mouth shut!"
"Sounds very, very kinky, 'Lope." Henry chuckled as Penelope glared daggers at her boss. "Gross, Henry."
"Ms. Penelope Juniper Martin?" A tall dark skinned man about the height of 6 foot 5 asked, gazing down at the 4 foot 11 Penelope and 6 foot 1 Henry.
"Yes?" she questioned, grinning up at her friend.
"Letter from Tyler Simms's father." He handed Penelope a white envelope with candle wax as the seal.
"Ah, thank you, Mr. T."
"Not a problem, Penny." He bowed at the waist in respect.
"Mr. T?" Henry cackled, "As in the A-Team Mr. T?" Henry cracked a joke, nudging Mr. T with his elbow.
Grinning like an idiot, he snorted. "Get it?"
"No, sir." Mr. T glared down at Henry. "Penny gave me this nickname."
"Since his last name is too long." Penelope continued for Mr. T.
"Thank you, Penny." He smiled and hugged Penelope, "Stay safe, miss."
"Don't mention it, Mr. T." She nodded in reply, "I will. You too!"
