The boss was yelling about something again, something to do with the monthly sales report. Nothing new and nothing interesting. Mallory watched the older woman's face contract and expand, doing her best to elicit fear and discipline from an employee that couldn't be forced to care about the “future of the company” even if a gun was placed up against her jugular.
That's when the subject of personal appearance came up, the boss lady making some smart crack about the way Mallory did her hair, calling for a swift remedy to fix the “rat's nest sprouting up there.”
That was far enough. Mal wasn't about to let the hag think that she had the monopoly on bitchiness. Waiting for just the right pause in the breathless ranting, Mal took one last casual sip from her iced coffee before putting the whole of the concoction down the woman's disgustingly low-cut blouse.