Epilogue
Derek Hollister sat at one of his new discoveries, a nice upscale bar several blocks from city center. He’d lived in Houston for twelve years and being single he ate out a lot. How he’d never heard of Bogart’s, he didn’t know. But he dug it.
He needed to unwind. That night, Thursday, he sat back at a corner table, lounging on the leather banquette, and sipping a single malt.
Tomorrow, he’d hit the gym and work out his stress. His frickin’ CEO and his big damn mouth.
No, we’re not gonna see numbers skyrocket next quarter. This is not just a bump in the road, he sarcastically told himself as if having a conversation with the man right then.
He sighed and took another sip, hoping the liquor would drown the memories of the investor call.
A livelier group gathered at the far end
