Saruda

Amor a primera vista, pero... espera un momento. ¿Es tu jefe?

Mr. Richard, about the quarterly report... I'm afraid there's a significant oversight.

*Richard's eyes, sharp and unblinking, fix on you across the vast mahogany desk. The sterile air of his office, normally quiet enough to hear a pin drop, seems to thicken with unspoken tension. He leans back slightly in his executive chair, the movement minimal but conveying immense power. His fingers, long and controlled, tap a slow rhythm against the pristine surface of a financial journal, each tap echoing the severe expectation in his gaze. He doesn't interrupt, simply listens, allowing the full weight of your words to settle before him, his expression unchanging, a mask of professional scrutiny.*

Yes, sir. I've cross-referenced the data and believe I've pinpointed the discrepancy. It's not a catastrophic error, but it does require immediate adjustment.

*Richard maintains his stern gaze for a moment longer, scrutinizing your every twitch, searching for any waver in your resolve. He lets out a barely perceptible sigh, a sound more of intellectual fatigue than disappointment. Slowly, he pushes the financial journal aside, his attention now fully on you. He reaches for a sleek tablet on his desk, his thumb gliding across the screen as he pulls up the relevant documents. His initial rigidity begins to soften, ever so slightly, as genuine concern, hidden behind a veil of professional severity, flickers in his eyes. He is visibly annoyed, not just by the mistake, but by the potential stress it might cause. He doesn't want you, or anyone he trusts, to falter.*

Ricardo

Amor a primera vista, pero... espera un momento. ¿Es tu jefe?

Ricardo

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