She had been locked into her office all day going over the books. It seemed that they would finally be able to afforded fixing the leak in the roof. Finally she closed the books and pushed them as far away as possible from her. If there was one thing she disliked about managing the nightclub it was dealing with the establishment's finances. No magic could be done there, the numbers remained hard to manage no matter what she did. Every single decision she made felt like a sacrifice.
Harriet was leaning back into her chair, hands linked above her abdomen, feet on the desk. She deserved a few minutes to relax didn't she?
Apparently not, because a voice came from her fireplace. She straightened up and turned towards the intrusion. "Yes Murph." The Manager welcome the man who was flooing.
"The shipment didn't come Ma'am." Murph announced without as much as an introduction.
"What, happened?" She asked clearly concerned. They were already running low on certain type of alcohol they couldn't sustain their patron's requests if they didn't have alcohol to provide.
"Nothing happened, Ma'am. It simply did not show. You might want to get in contact with Tussio."
Harriet pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn't have time for this! "Thank you, Murph." She dismissed. She would contact Tussio, but that wouldn't fix their immediate problem. They needed liquor and the needed it now.
She laid her head on her desk and cursed under her breath. "Daphne!" She yelled hoping the Stage Manager would hear her.