"We need a new arrangement," she said, after he had closed the door and sat down. He swallowed, a cold lump of anxiety slipping down his throat and then sitting heavily in his stomach. He waited for her to continue, but she shuffled in her chair and shuffled through her notes.
She is as uncomfortable with this conversation as I am, he thought. Perhaps, it won't be as bad as all that.
"How do you see it looking," he said, his voice sounded shrill and wobbly in his ears. "This new arrangement, I mean." She looked up and looked him straight in the eye.
"Things can't go on as they have been. You know that don't you?" The anxiety lump started to swell, it was in danger of forcing itself up his throat and bringing his lunch up with it.
"What do you mean?" he squeaked.
"You have been underperforming..."
...
