The mahogany doors stayed open.
The air in the office went dead.
Tiffany stood on the imported carpet with her mouth open, trying to make last night's delivery boy fit the chair he was sitting in. Rick did not help her. He kept his boots on the desk and looked at her like she was a late order.
Zhou's handkerchief was already out. He looked from Tiffany's red dress to Rick's boots and seemed to age a year in a second.
"Miss," he whispered, "please do not—"
Tiffany still did not hear him.
"You?" The shock burned off fast and the arrogance came back. She pointed an acrylic at his chest. "What the hell are you doing in here, you filthy street rat?"
Zhou made a noise that was not words.
Tiffany did not hear it.
"You are a delivery boy. Did you follow me here to beg? Did you sneak in to steal something?"
Zhou opened his mouth.
Pei Hao shoved past him first.
