[Ms. Potts had run late. Again. Punctuality had been a byword at Stark Industries. Pepper was there early enough for good natured argument prior to her first cup of coffee in the morning and late enough that it had been natural to transition to the penthouse where the argument could continue over paperwork on Tony's couch. The business here did not lend itself to seamless overlap with her personal life. The business suit was the color of buttermilk and it had creased in the cab on the way from the hospital. The lipstick was severe red and it had almost smudged. Pepper rescued it now with the flat of her thumb in the reflection of her computer screen as it booted up.
There was a steady stream in and out of her office. People complaining, and people seeking resolution - they were rarely, if ever the same people. There was a chair abutting the desk that was comfortable but not too comfortable, and a clock obligingly facing the occupant of said chair that nudged them out if they were prone to staying overlong. This chair was now empty.
There had been little enough in the media about Stark losing any redhead, let alone any emotive language. Pepper had deliberately used every last contact she had to dampen that squib before it lit. No, she wasn't leaving because the company was going to dissolve, and no she wasn't going to take Stark tech to a rival firm. Oscorp was suitably bland and large enough for the administration to be interesting. It was also the only firm that had offered a step at least similar to her pay from Stark.
Pepper shuffled the day's papers together and looked toward the door as she hooked her heel back into her shoe more firmly, and straightened behind the desk. "Come in."