“Sumit Patel.” The last name clearly didn’t help place him. “From finance? You said to get you the Indian,” I whispered. Mr. Stevenson’s face went white, and he floundered, opening and closing his mouth to try to find something to say. “Should I send him in?” I asked with a saccharine smile. I was fucking with my racist boss, but he didn’t know that. Well…he couldn’t prove it.
this is legitimately funny pop off queen
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