The transition from kitchen to living room felt almost like moving from a classroom to a bunker. I synced my laptop to the massive TV screen on the wall, and brought up the live charts for the southern financial district’s mid-cap movers.
Tess sat on the edge of the sofa, her lavender pajamas a stark contrast against the leather. She almost didn’t look like a high-level consultant, but as she opened her notebook and pointed to a specific ticker symbol, I realized she moved with more authority than any board member I ever employed.
“They’re opening at $42 a share,” she noted. “By this evening, if the short-sell is executed in the blocks I’ve outlined, the margin call on their rescue extraction loans will trigger. They won’t be able to pivot fast enough.
I pulled out my phone and diale
