Making Offers to the Old Medici

Posted: September 13, 2014 in Uncategorized

Drumming fingers on the oaken desk, Lauren rolled her tongue in her mouth and stared intently at the bar graphs in front of her and their points of data, the projections and the hard numbers, and the origin point between them that represented the current hole she had to dig tens of thousands of people out of. There was lunch after this, it had been written not in pencil but in thick black marker this time, enough to bleed through one page and down four more. It was an intentional move, but Monday was making a liar out of her, and the rest of the week would likely do the same. Spicy grilled chicken and a side of crab wontons. They might as well have made it a combo so she could order it a few seconds faster three or four times a week. It was no way to live a life, but she had the Lexus, she had the power, and this was the sacrifice she made. She spent enough time sweating it out before the sun rose every morning. It used to be a weight, it used to be a pressure and something that shook her to wondering what needed to change, but now it was routine. She just sighed the truth of it out through her teeth, flipped from page to page in the project binder, and would let her admin assistant take note of the lack of a lunch break. Harriet would notice. Then she would call Chinese Palace. She always did.

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