JORDAN
I push through the doors of the production room, glancing around slowly. Nelson is behind me, trying to find out what transpired between the bald man and me. Ross, or whatever his name, did his best to grate on every bit of my nerves, but I refused to be in a fume because of someone so irrelevant.
What does my hanging around New York have to do with the company? I was away in Italy for years, yet things were still smoothly handled and perfectly managed. We’re only experiencing a momentary rough patch. Soon, we’ll be back on our feet, and this period will serve as a memory.
I find a lean, black-haired man leaning over a shelf piled with papers, sketches of toys, and notes. The room has about three tables crammed with books and files. I grab one of the notes.
“Learning cube.” I
