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Of course, Harry Potter's worst employer is Daphne Greengrass, that damn witch who has been leading him on a wild goose chase for years to acquire this establishment. This wretched bitch built her empire on scams, manipulations, and dark magic ever since she graduated from Hogwarts, where she belonged to Slytherin. Unfortunately, Harry, a mere mortal, had to work with her in this cursed restaurant where it seems that nothing goes according to plan.
Earlier today, on her backside - which should be his since he is rarely here - she told him about selling the restaurant to him. "Listen, we're very close," she added. "I just need the figures from this quarter, which should be at the end of the month. Then I should be able to sell with peace of mind."
This has nothing to do with having a good conscience. She just wants to maximize her profit from the sale, which she can achieve if the quarterly figures are higher than the previous ones. Have you ever noticed how wealthy people dress up all their money-making decisions in a moral garment? It's incredible how ruthlessly they exploit others for their own benefit.
Daphne is also a blonde with cold, dazzlingly beautiful facial features. Her skin is as pale as milk, and her high cheekbones give her a distinct, magnetic beauty. She inherited this house from her wealthy family, a family that, according to rumors, had its fingers in broomsticks, the sale of magical elixirs, and dragon smuggling. She shows the same interest in it as a yacht off the coast or a collection of modern art hidden in a bunker. She's far away, far away.
She always reminded Harry of a femme fatale from an old black and white movie, perhaps because he has a feeling she will be his downfall. Her hair is always thick and voluminous, with a large parting in the middle, and she dresses in tight, stylish long skirts, fitted jackets, and silk blouses. Her slender hands are adorned with numerous gemstone rings that seem to pulse with a mysterious glow. Her silhouette always seems surrounded by an aura of mystery and horror that is impossible to ignore.
He thinks her clothes today are from Yves Saint Laurent; it's the type of well-made clothing that should stand out. "You can't afford to go out with me." "I have money," he said. "I've had it for a long time. And you said the same thing to me last quarter." He noticed she was holding back an eye roll. They are brilliantly icy blue, easy to slip into and drown in, though they seem as cold as the heart of this woman.
"All I want is for you to stop pestering me. I've put in the effort. This location will be in good hands. You'll get your percentage. You don't want to be here at all." "Why don't you just sell it then?" he asked through gritted teeth, trying not to let the erotic game she was playing on him take over completely.
Daphne clenched her teeth, and her full, sensual lips curved into a predatory smile. She despises it when anyone, especially men, talks to her backwards. Maybe that's why Harry did it. "Sentimentality, I suppose," she replied, and her long fingers caressed the buttons of her jacket and shirt, revealing a neckline that made it hard to focus on anything else. Her bosom was stunning, and for a moment, he forgot what he wanted exactly. "Would you blame a girl for wanting to feel safe, Harry?" she asked with a predatory gleam in her eyes.
Ugh. Harry dropped the subject, as he always does. A healthy dose of embarrassment to start the day.
He can't disagree with her or any of the girls when they cast a spell, no matter how hard he tries. They are just too damn hot. He's not sure what he did to deserve this strange torture, surrounded by beautiful ladies who gladly control him, yet seem to scorn him, but it must have been terrible. And that leads us back to Tracey, who hides her contempt for him as little as possible behind a facade of friendliness that is deliberately designed to look fragile, so she knows that he knows she can drop it at any moment.
"I just worked really hard today," admits Tracey, her hands resting on her hips, accentuating her slender figure. "Are you sure you can't help me?" He could work as little as she does if all he wanted was a salary, but he wants to buy this place someday, which means he has to work to keep it running. Tracey knows this - all the women here know it - because Daphne, the "real" boss, makes sure of it.
Everyone at this workplace seems to be open about their private lives, including their love lives. We're always witnessing conversations about inappropriate relationships and hot romances that our coworkers are having. Because we know so much about each other, it's sometimes hard to resist the temptation not to imagine these women in more intimate situations.
However, when it comes to talking to them, even when they flirt openly, they maintain a certain distance that makes it difficult to gauge their true intentions. It seems that on the one hand, they want to get closer, but on the other hand, they set boundaries. Maybe it's because they don't want to mix their personal and professional lives, or maybe they're testing him to see if he'll break.
He often wonders what makes these beautiful women stay in this place when they know they could earn more elsewhere. Maybe it's because of their attachment to the atmosphere we create, or maybe they're just waiting for that breakthrough moment when they'll understand what they truly want.
Daphne, the owner, definitely maintains this unique atmosphere in their workplace. Her enigmatic demeanor makes everyone feel involved, even though they never quite know what she really thinks. Daphne seems to be the point that makes everyone want to be a part of this place.
However, it is Tracey who truly catches the eye and fascinates everyone with her grace. Her sex appeal is dazzling, and the tight skirts she wears accentuate her sensual curves. With her exceptional magnetism, Tracey can make men do anything for her, often receiving generous tips. She knows how to seduce with her glances and gestures, which are both innocently flirtatious and clearly full of subtext.
Tracey skillfully uses her beauty and sex appeal to make men fall at her feet. Her tight skirts and sensual movements make everyone want to catch her attention. And when she moves between the tables, you can see the desire in their eyes, ready to generously reward her for her company.
Now it is Harry who is the target of her seductive gaze. Her hair is swept to one side, and her hands slide over the soft, black surface. He feels his body react to this hot expression on her face, which makes her even more attractive. Her half-innocent, half-seductive behavior makes it hard for him to look away from her.
"You know you can have anyone you want, right?" Tracey asked, directing her gaze to the woman who just entered the establishment. "You said it's a girl?" Her tone was both provocative and mocking. It seemed like her interest in the woman was meant to provoke a reaction from him, as if she wanted to see how he would behave in the presence of another woman.
Harry looked at Tracey and her innocent yet subtext-filled gaze. He knew he couldn't resist her charm. He saw how she talked to other men, patrons who tried to catch her attention, and the atmosphere around them was always charged with tension. Tracey could be nice to him, but when she decided to show her true character, she became unbearable.
Despite all of this, Harry felt his interest in Tracey growing. Her provocative gaze and sensual gestures made it hard for him to focus on anything else. He wondered if it was just a game or something more.
He let out a deep sigh. "Okay. Will you help Bagman then?" he asked. "He tipped me when he came in."
"He orders the same meal every night and claims it's the first time he's eaten it. I bet he's sitting on a lot of cash, based on the way he dresses and tips. I assure you, Harry, you can milk him for a lot more."
Her beautiful eyes glimmered with greed, a burning desire for the money he would like to satisfy if he had the chance. Tracey was too young to realize how every rich man would be thrilled to satisfy her desires. Greed, like everything else, looked wonderful on her.
"Great!" she exclaimed with enthusiasm. She turned and began to walk towards her target. "Don't worry, Harry. I don't care what Daphne thinks of you."