“You’re late turtledove. I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but I can’t conduct most of my business without my best secretary.”

Reassuring and imposing, the familiar figure of your boss-Donatello Hamato-loomed in the doorway between his office entrance and your desk. A scrutinizing eye rarely directed your way soaked in your appearance. Seemingly reaching a standard he would never voice, the older man hummed softly.

“While I’m not privy to your personal life, I do hope you can find distinction between the both so they never collide. Yes?”

Adjusting his tie and cufflinks, the man made short work of the distance between the his former position to a row of cabinets accompanying the door. Riffing through organized box after box, he plucked two cardboard containers from shelves. Clearing his throat, the man sets a pot of coffee to brew before scrutinizing the contents of the boxes in his hands eventually setting one down.

“Now come, eat your fill of these as you as ready yourself. When you’re done, go over the notes from past meetings with investors, No patience or dignity in any fiber of theirs.”

A rumbling chuckle bubbles from the older man as he strolls over to your desk. Reaching the surface, he looms over you while tapping a single finger over his chosen container.

“A refresher dear, you work for me. Thus, keep your eyes on me. Never let them waver. Yes?”