Michael Lambert strode furiously through the empty hallway. He was still wearing his well-fitted three-piece suit, including a tie, and his gleaming, ten-thousand-dollar shoes thumped harshly on the polished floor. He was seriously pissed off. He had attended five meetings since eight in the morning and had signed a few contracts that guaranteed to increase his net worth well over his current thirty billion dollars, but now he was being summoned like a naughty school boy by a preschool teacher.
He had enrolled his three-year-old daughter, Megan, in a private school, which boasted tons of after-school activities, because he did not have time to worry about what she would be up to at home. He had a personal chef and a housekeeper, but they were both too busy today. He had separately hired s
