Daria's POV
"What the fuck, Dev?" A booming voice practically screamed across the length of the warehouse.
I snickered, smirking at Devon's face reddening as one of his Falon colleagues came weaving around the stacks of shelves filled with products.
"Why are you shouting at me?" Devon screamed back, and I furrowed my eyebrows and smiled in surprise.
"Do you know who's had to categorise and count all of this fucking shit? Are you planning on opening an ASDA shopping centre or nine?" A blonde curly-haired man stomped around the last shelf and stared at me with wide, astonished eyes.
And then, he turned to Devon and scowled.
"We have company," Devon smirked, twirling the set of keys in his hand with a light, cheery whistle.
This fool.
"You're at the top of the course leaderboard," he stammered, laughing awkwardly and scanning me, "We analyse your run to see how we can improve and beat you."
I laughed, turning to Devon and punching his arm.
