#banala

@bellebeauton

Today was going to be terrible. 

Nala had been dreading it all weekend, since she’d walked out of Taka’s office with the marching orders pounding in her head like a war drum. She had thought of several more arguments as she packed up her purse, as she walked home, as she tossed and turned fitfully. But Taka had stared her down and made it clear he wouldn’t budge. And she wasn’t the CEO of InterPride. There was nothing to be done.

She tried to convince herself the next morning that it was for the best and that the things that Taka had said were true. He’d done the research and discussed other options. He was going to help any businesses that took a hit.

But how coudl he help those businesses, she wondered, if InterPride really had been damaged that badly with Brexit? 

She fought against her own doubt. She wrestled with these questions. She beat them back as best she could, but they were as stubborn as she, and they got up, brushed themselves off, and bounced back into her focus. It was hard for Nala to do something she didn’t believe in with all her heart. It was even harder to do something that she was so against. 

She fretted all the way to Chapter Three-- the first stop. When she got to the door, Nala swallowed roughly and paused with her hand on the door. How had she turned into an executioner, overnight? 

Maybe-- it wouldn’t be that bad? 

With that final thought held hopeful in her heart, Nala pushed open the door and walked in. The door gave a tiny jingle. Belle was there at the register, punching in something, hard at work. She glanced Nala’s way at the sound and Nala managed a tiny, tiny smile in her direction (more polite than anything else) as she headed over to the counter.

“Good morning, Miss Beauton,” Nala greeted softly. I’ve come on behalf of InterPride...