.....MEANWHILE...
"Do you think that is exceptable!" James yelled as he walked into an averagly clean and designed dinning room. "Look at this mess." He said looking at the tablecloths.
They were old and you could tell they had been used for years. On any other day of the week, month, or even year he wouldn't give a damn, but not tonight. It's six o'clock and he's panicking, he has a business meeting with Mr. Nite and his three children.
"ANGELA" He yelled as he walked around feeling the dingy tablecloth.
Angela walked into the room dirt on her face, blouse, jeans, even on her cute yet cheap black dress shoes.
"Yes James?" She knew he hated when she called him that he took it as disrespect.
Walking up to her James grabbed her arm. "What is the meaning of this?"
Angela's face fell into confusion "They are tablecloths James."
Hearing his name spill from her mouth he began to squeeze her arm harder. It didn't matter that it hurt or the fact that there will be a bruise in the morning. Angela loved the idea she was the reason he was so angry, so uneased. That he hated her as much as she hated him. The truth was he could never hate her anywhere close to the amount of hatred she had for him.
"Do you think this is exceptable for tonight's dinner!?"
Angela knew she should be careful with the answer to this question. "No what would you like me to do about it?"
"Thats what you need to figure out." James wasn't going to leave or lighten his grip until she came up with something. "Look at you, filthy."
His words normally meant nothing to her but this... She spent they day running around cleaning every room fixing lights. Getting new but cheap dishes to replace the cracked ones. While his spoiled of a brat daughter ordered her and the rest of the staff around. Even ordered water from the sink knowing very well the tap water came from a well. She took one drink of it then proceeded to spit it out all over Angela. Causing her hair to be damp.
Angela fought the urge to slug James in the face, and he knew it. As she started to lose the fight with morality he let her go and walked off. Everyone in the building knew it wasn't over. A few moments later James walked back up to her and set on the tablecloth an outfit.
Three rules in order to work at the restaurant. One you don't talk back, two you did not interfere when the boss was chewing someone out. Finally the third the cruelest most disgusting rule was you had to wear a specific outfit. For the women it was a short, short skirt, and a low cut blouse. As long as you had breasts there wasn't anyway of them fitting into the shirt without showing. James only hired women with a nice body. It didn't matter the experience. Only if your ass fit nicely in the skirt and your tits filled the shirt. When I mean filled, I mean filled the shirt and then some.
"I will not wear that." Angela protested now on the verge of tears.
"Yes you will young lady. It's about time you go along with the program."
"What program, the program of a business that is running into the ground, because the owner won't take care of it. Where your waitresses are forced to look like prostitutes. As for the decor both of us know who's choice it was."
Placing the topper on top of the cake Angela said ever so softly "If you didn't get rid of the old decor and staf...."
Angela never got to finish her sentence when James grabbed her face and pushed her into a wall.
"You don't speak to me that way. As far as the outfit goes it's your choice. As always nobody is forcing you to wear it, but if you don't you are out no more chances. That will be the end so what will it be?"
James waited for a fight, an argument, anything but as his patience just about ran out his wife Tasha put her hand on his shoulder.
"It's not worth it James. She is not worth this business deal."
James just stood there not wanting to be the one who broke, but knew if he didn't let it go at least for now he would lose everything he worked so hard for.
Tasha was not a leader nor had the skills to run a business the only thing she had was a husband that everyone was afraid of.
"Everyone listen up just remove the tablecloths let the natural wood show. Put vases on the table with some flowers and use the new plates for dinner. As for you Angela go get dressed and get back to work we both know your not leaving."
Tasha was right Angela wasn't going to leave. Not only did they know it, but anyone in the building, in her life knew she would never leave. Not as long as James and Tasha owned the restaurant.
Angela grabbed the outfit off the table. Up until she grabbed it there was hope. It was no secret that the others looked up to her. She was a fighter never fully excepted the say of the bosses. Always stood up for them even if they didn't return the favor. So for her to pick it up, it was like surrendering to the enemy. The one player in battle who could turn the tides, win the war was giving up. All hope was lost.