"I love the image of you on your knees in front of me. But I don't want you to worship me reluctantly," he said, playfully. Honestly, I quite enjoyed the playful banter that we engaged in once in a while. I also enjoyed the wicked arguments we had that ended in us making snarky remarks at each other for the major portion of the day. Not one single day with Anthony Murray was dull, or anything close to the definition of the word.
"I'm sorry to say that I find that image distasteful, Boss." I retorted. The words flew out before I could stop them, "I'd say that I didn't want to become like Cienna, but she says that you didn't get a piece of her." I should have stopped myself, but I saw something flash in his eyes that made me think otherwise. This was the part where I enjoyed his company the most: the argument. His eyes blazed with rage and he snagged a piece of fruit and turned away. He fiddled with his phone for a moment before he turned to me and seethed.
