Ross stared at his morning report while his head nearly exploded. Fifteen percent. How the hell did this happen? “Jesus Christ!” came Don’s loud shout from the outer hallway. “He’s in his office,” Marcia said, her voice calm as could be. She’d gotten used to Don’s yelling. Don swung around the corner, his suit jacket flying open, belly protruding, face turning weird shades of purple. Ross hoped the guy didn’t have a heart attack on his floor. He waved a report. “Kid, did you see this?” “Just saw it. Mini-bac down fifteen percent.” “Mini-bac again!” “Marcia?” Ross called. “Would you find Kate for me please?” “On it.” Ross motioned Don to a chair. “Sit.” “I can’t sit.” Instead, he paced the room, flapping his arms.
