"No, that's hideous. What wasn't clear about that the first time?" Percy was definitely undercaffeinated, and his pop-up shop wasn't going as smoothly as he planned. He had gotten back to Rosewood just a few days ago after a few weeks in Paris and he was trying not to be a snob. But the summer staff he had hired barely knew their right from left. "Hey does anyone want a job? Everyone here is fired!" He stepped outside and patted his pockets for his cigarettes. "God, I've become a bitch, haven't I? Or do bitches just have high standards?"
Emory watched in amusement at Percy's diva shenanigans. New York was everything they had ever dreamed of, but it was moments like this when Emory missed the simplicity of home. "Would love a cute summer job." They teased, chuckling brightly. "For the record, it was hideous. It's hard to find good help these days. People just don't know how to fucking listen." Granted, Emory always had high expectations for themselves and those they chose to surround themselves with. They expected excellence and nothing less. A sentiment Percy could agree with. "I don't think you ever stopped being one. There's nothing wrong with being a bitch and having high standards. You want what you put out to be good. It's known for being good. God forbid you allow a slip up and let your reputation be tarnished."














