Nathan
"Where in the bloody buggerin’ hell are the P&L reports? They were supposed to be in my inbox five minutes ago." The man on the other end of the phone begins to make an excuse, but I cut him off, "If they don’t reach me in the next three minutes, you’re fired. You know what? You’re fired anyway." I slam the phone receiver into its cradle, then look up as my assistant walks in.
She takes one look at my face, then turns and marches out. Good call. The next unlucky sod who walks into my office is going to be relieved of their duties so fast, they won’t know what hit them.
The door opens, and Sinclair walks in.
Doesn’t he know how to knock? Well, hell. The one man I cannot fire, nor hold responsible for the s**t-show that is my life. Also, he’s not directly involved in the Davenport
