Raya's POV.
"Get out! He does not want to see you," the receptionist spat out, sneering and clicking on her computer as if I was a ghost.
"Excuse me, do you know who I am," I snapped at the beautiful lady with a model build. "I need to speak to George. Tell him I'm waiting here for me."
"Look lady. You're not in his schedule so unless you are his mother or some ancient deity, I suggest you call him yourself," she hissed and continued clicking on her computer.
"I could get you fired. I hope you know that?" I threatened.
"And my mother's a popstar," she said with a sarcastic tone, almost laughing at how desperate I looked. "Save yourself the trouble and go home. You are not needed here no matter how hard you grovel,"
"You know what? I don't need to put up with this," I snarked. "I'll force my way in if I have to,"
