Molotov's eyebrow arches high as her smile falls. She's unimpressed with this -- it's not an acceptable excuse to avoid one's job. Stephen might have grown a backbone in recent months, but it wasn't the strongest, and could certainly be broken with the right chewing out.

"Thank you, Ms. Blackwood. I leave it up to you, with my only request being a large bathtub." Her long legs swing uncrossed and she stands, taking a few steps toward the door before glancing over her shoulder. "There is one more thing. But I think he might be above you anyway."