Zander
Some mornings started with coffee.
Others started with contract negotiations.
Mine started with a woman who refused to accept the meaning of the word no.
I had just finished signing a stack of purchase agreements when my office phone buzzed.
Sarah’s voice came through the intercom, calm as always.
“Zander?”
“Yes?”
“You have… a situation.”
I leaned back in my chair.
“What kind of situation?”
“The blonde kind.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Please tell me she isn’t here.”
Silence.
“Sarah.”
“She’s here.”
Of course she was.
“I told security not to let her upstairs.”
“They didn’t.”
That made me pause.
“Then how—”
“She’s downstairs.”
I frowned.
“In the lobby?”
“Not exactly.”
Sarah sighed.
“She’s standing in the middle of the first-floor atrium where every em
