Given that it was Friday and there was a game today, Tiffany had to wear her cheerleading outfit to show school pride. She never minded having to wear her outfit. It made her look sexy and Tiffany knew that when she looked sexy she had power.After grabbing her backpack, Tiffany walked down the stairs to the kitchen to make some breakfast. A math test with a grade of "C-" was laying on the counter."I'll just get one of the nerds to help me study," Tiffany said matter-of-factly. The only thing she didn't like about Fridays was the fact that the maid wasn't there. Usually, the maid would cook breakfast, but she had Fridays off. Annoyed, Tiffany grabbed some bread and popped it in the toaster right before the home phone started to ring on the wall."Hello?" Tiffany asked, annoyed."Hello, is this Tiffany Johnson?" the voice asked."Yeah, what do you want?" My name is Ben Smith, I'm in your physics class, do you remember me?" Ew, no you sound like a nerd," Tiffany said, disgusted."You. It was all smoke and mirrors with these bastards. Clearly, though, DFM were doing something right. The firm didn't earn 12 billion Imperial pounds last year by chance. Everything in this place was coldly calculated, and Owen knew he was about to go under the microscope.As if on cue, Karelian girl number one stood, approached him, and knelt in front of him as was standard practice when a slave addressed a person. "Please," Owen said as politely as possible, anticipating her request for permission to speak."Thank you Master Owen. Master Yves-Marchant will see you now." Thank you," Owen replied but regretted it instantly. One didn't thank slaves in situations like this. One simply proceeded. He'd have to be careful. The Brits were big on this "decorum" bullshit, especially upper class, double-barrelled French ones like Marchant. The girl replied simply by bowing her head even lower and staring at Owen's feet. Girl number two stood, opened the door to Marchant's office and knelt.
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