You’re firing me? Seriously?’
Emily slumped back in the chair and folded her arms.
‘I wouldn’t say firing, exactly.’ He pressed his hands together in a prayer-like pose under his chin and fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘With regret, I am making you redundant.’
‘With regret? That’s what Lord Sugar always says in The Apprentice, when he fires people.’
‘It isn’t personal. We’re having to let a few people go.’
She stood up. ‘How? How can this not be personal?’
‘Do you think you could keep your voice down a little, please? We don’t want everyone to hear now, do we?’ He stood up too and walked past her to the windows that separated his private office from the rest of the open-plan area. She turned to watch as he closed the venetian blinds, obliterating the view of Annie from Accounts who was staring, open-mouthed. Annie would probably put a glass to the wall if she thought she could get away with it. Not that you needed a glass with these walls; they were paper-thin.
He turned back to Emily, put a hand on