The Mystical Story of Rachel (Nolongin Galak Boss)
Playboy Cap Rhino

This morning I built the same person who early in the morning called mulu mulu. I am so happy!

"Halooooooooo!" I was a little stiff.

"Astaghfirlah, Deck! you don't know, do you?" the soft voice of the Gita.

"Maap! hoammmph, I guess kang telpong prank. Understandably adek mbak has many secret admirers. Betewe, what's the matter with Ma'am calling me in the morning?" I nanya still with a raspy voice.

"Emmmmph, gini, Chel." said the Gita, stalled.

"What? like a drag really want to talk about doang? drink first, gih..."

"Where are you, Deck..."

"Yes how? what's what how? Madam Geje really suwer deh,"

"Bak doesn't feel good talking about it..."

"Surely done, Ma'am! same with myself, not with anyone else. Mbak why?if it doesn't matter, it may not be possible to call me before dawn like gini," I mean mbak Gita to want to tell a story.

"Huuufhh," he sighed for a moment before speaking again.

"I'm ashamed to say this. But I don't know who else to ask for help..."

"Ask lontong? lontong what mbak? lontong greens what lontong pods?"

"Please, Deck. Not lontong!" mbak Gita sprained.

"Hahaha, patience, ma'am. Let's not get that tense, you know! do you go on, ask for help what?"

"Emmm! I'm gonna pinjem some money, Dek..."

"How much?"

"Not much, just 2 million. That's also if you exist." said mbak Gita, I think there is a sense of unease.

Yes how not to hesitate, he has often minjem like this same me.

"To a regular account, right?" i'm nanya.

"Yes..."

"I'm sorry, I often take care of you." said Mbak Gita.

"Just do it, Ma'am..."

"Maaaaah.." the voice of the little boy whines.

"You're awake, honey?" ask Mbak Gita.

"Sir, go to the room again, huh? Nayla's awake" said the Gita.

"Yes, Ma'am." I closed the phone.

Towards dawn even asked for a transfer, this is definitely Bram's mas behavior which is definitely lacking monthly allowance for Mbak Gita. Amit-amit jabang baby has a husband like that. How not less, the money is made in addition to the main needs of the household.

Buy antique lights, buy a mountain bike, ntar asked the craftsman to scrape the house. Anyway Bram's behavior is strange bin ajib. I was really excited to see him, especially Gita. Nayla who is still Kindergarten needs a lot of money, still fortunately she has no helpers. All mbak Gita work alone, tuman emang husband so. He wants more prestige so that people admit, if he has this it. Even though his wife only ate tempe ama know doang so.

"Go back to the office I tried to go home mbak Gita, all want to know what else is in his house.." I pulled another blanket to rinse the eyes for a minute two.

Now the sun is no longer ashamed to shine the creatures on this earth earth. And I'm one of those godly creatures who enjoys the warmth of making back bones. The morning sun contains vitamin D. Not bad dong dapet free vitamins early in the morning.

I still wear my motorcycle to work. Previously, the money I had transferred to mbak Gita was the plan for me to use for nyervis. But yeah, that's it.

Good thing today is not late in, just as I want to turn into the basement suddenly there are yabg mengelaksonin my motor.

Tin.

Tin

Tin

I move aside dong and really, tuh car play nyelip already rich like a racer.

"This is the office, Woy! not circuit!" i'm yelling. So I saw the car playing so.

"Sabaaaarrr, sabarrrr!" I went to the basement for the naro motor.

Today as usual the work piled up until the afternoon. Definition of fighter cuan yes like this, no word tired. Although the waist feels not too bad because most sit and glasses like to sag. But yeah, what else.

"It's also coming home," I started to save all the work and turn on the computer.

"Hurrying too?"

"It was late in the afternoon, the office was quiet as well." I hurriedly entered the phone into the bag.

"Yes, we're together. It just so happens that I don't have an appointment either" said the rhino cap playboy.

I didn't answer, I just played go.

"Rachel, wait!" tristan's sound filled the room.

He ngekor mulu, yes although the presence of Tristan quite dispels the quiet atmosphere and serem along the aisle of the company. But still, the road ama crocodile land tuh malesnya not kelulungan.

I don't know, Tristan who in front of the crowd doesn't know me. And if there's no one kayak now he's turned into a really pretentious iyey.

I walk a little bit flat, fella

I was so scared I accidentally hit someone.

Bugh!

My glasses are down.

"Sorry .. sorry, sorry!" I ducked for nyari tuh glasses that turned out to accidentally fall close to the feet of the person I hit earlier.

"Have worn glasses your way is still not right!"

The deg!

It turns out that in front of me this is Mr. Raga. I obviously squirmed it when I put it on again with the viewing aid.

"Yes, sorry. I'm..."

"Wait, I don't seem familiar with your voice?" said Mr. Raga.

"Gaswat! lest he would have noticed that I was the one who interrupted him at that time, who thought he was snapping!" I'm in the heart.

"Racheeeeeel!" shouted Tristan. And his expression changed when he saw the boss.

"Emmmh, Tuaan?" tristan said bumbling.

"This is an office, not a forest! Don't scream!" said Mr. Raga.

"And you! watch your way, look ahead not back! gotcha?" said Mr. Raga while rapping his suit.

Boss boss just go. I can also breathe with relief. I also went along, but was prevented by the land crocodile.

"Where are you going?" ask Tristan.

"You're coming home, Tan!" I took his hand.

"I'm anter!"

"No, I got my own bike, bye!" I know Tristan.

And that guy just sawed me without any intention of chasing. He's even drugs, and lastly love finger love. Oh, my God, what a fuckin' fuckin' person. So strange.

Don't ask what the basement is. Udah must be quiet, yes there is still a new engine motorbikes but bentar doang. There he went and the basement was quiet again. I ride my own motorcycle.

"Yes, the next month! the money has moved hands!" I talked to my yellow angkot motorcycle.

Okay, I hurried out of the basement and just got out of the parking lot of the office tau-tau ngadat motor.

"Well, is that?"

The engine suddenly died.

"Yassalaaaaammu! just been told to know it's like this!" I ride my own motorbike.

Tin.

Tin.

Tin

"God! move over!" shouted a man, who was no stranger to my ears.