“Yung days receivables, ano yung industry benchmark? Kase parang...”

She looks hard at the paper, even narrowing her eyes to make out the figures finely printed on the crisp white surface, and she really doesn't understand why everything is a blur when she spent the last freaking week drawing those figures up. Her head is throbbing – pounding – and God she swears that she is never ever going to drink alcohol on a weekday again.

“I think masyado napaikli yung cash cycle kaya ang lumalabas tuloy...”

She tries to listen – hard, so hard – but her mind refuses to let anything in save for vague recollections of the events the past night. There's lights and music and laughter and drinks and many questions and as many answers. What's in a Blowjob? Depends on what number. Uh, 1? Irish cream and Amaretto. What's Amaretto again, there's Amaretto at Chocolatier 3 right 'cause she bought it somewhere in Ireland but wait is Ireland even in Chocolatier 3?

“Kung ganito lang ang working capital requirement, wag na natin siyang pautangin...”

Everything was hot, too hot and she felt his lips curl into a smile as she bit on his lower lip and it's not like she's never kissed anyone before but that bastard -

“Ano ba ang nasa In-house financials baka dapat yun nalang ang gamitin natin para...”

And she remembers the way her eyes widened when his hands wandered to... well they wandered to too many places and she remembers the way she tried to say something and she can't even recall what she wanted to say but it doesn't matter because everything came out as some needy breathless sound and God please God just don't let me moan like a whore.

“Namumula ka. Ok lang ba?”

Her boss looks at her like he's about to call an ambulance and Lord if her boss only had an idea.

“Opo.”

She swears that next time she's going to stick to a screwdriver.

Hold the vodka.