Barty did not acknowledge the inquiry as Chastity walked in, merely stood from his chair and met her eye. "Sit," he commanded as he grabbed the two loose pieces of parchment from his desk that he'd been studying for the past twenty minutes. His eyes flashed discontentedly and he lifted a hand to loosen his tie as he felt his blood pressure sky-rocketing.
Slamming the two parchments down on the desk in front of her, he gestured at them almost too calmly. His voice, too, had taken on an air of calm that definitely did not match the frustration he was feeling. "I would really love it, Chas," he began, "if you could please explain these to me. You see, I have been reading them over and over again and it seems to me as though they both mention chance encounters with one Heather Silvestrie." He rounded the desk as he spoke and leaned back on it in front of her, leaning closer as he continued. "But how could this be? I distinctly remember assigning you to this nuisance. So, please, enlighten me," his voice began to crescendo. "Why the bleeding fuck are two civilians writing to me about having enough time to meet the bitch for coffee and yet you have produced nothing for me in regards to YOUR ASSIGNMENT?"