Although you started out the morning shocked and doubtful about Debbie's idea to brazenly show you off in public, the whole saga of your shrunken life since Jasmine teleported you has been seemingly confirming that she's never wrong, so you should always listen to her for your own good.
The first customer she talks to is a Scandinavian-looking young blond woman with an impressive amount of expensive looking fur lining to her outfit, who of course immediately asks about Debbie's unconventional decoration and then gushes over how cute you are. Partly because of all the past experience from recent days, and partly because you're starting to believe it anyway, you faithfully repeat everything your owner told you to say, dutifully confirming for the doting stranger that your relationship was totally consensual and that you were both extremely happy with it.
The woman is impressed and approving at how clearly comfortable you both are with Debbie being in charge in your relationship, not to mention her boldness flaunting it, and happily takes her advice for what to buy to show that same kind of confidence - a bunch of fashion talk that you don't really follow.
The second customer - a light-skinned black teenager who, by the looks of her, had too little experience with not having money to spend out of sheer boredom - shows less interest, but does give some approving comments in between dully scrolling her phone.
The third customer is a middle-aged looking woman with dark hair cropped conservatively cropped at her shoulders, and abruptly asks for some other sales rep to talk to after commenting that she thought Debbie's publicly advertising her relationship was unprofessional.
After calming her down and seeing her off, Debbie sighs worriedly and rubs your head. You can tell she needs calming down too, though, because you felt the cold sweat and goosebumps rising up in your place between her boobs; felt her heart racing, as she navigated the ex-customer's complaints.
You both jump as you hear Amanda's voice behind. "Debbie," she says, at which you're whirled around to face the frizzy-haired girl with a pained look on her face. "I'm sorry, but bringing your boyfriend to work isn't really normal, and it doesn't look like all the customers are okay with it. Could Joe wait somewhere out of sight while you're on the floor? Or if you worry about him being alone, I can look after him in the office myself until close."
She holds out a palm, offering but not quite asking. Debbie has to make a choice.
What does she choose?