“Heads up, everyone,” Jenni warned, and all of them looked up through the clear walls of the conference room toward the hallway. “He’s in a mood.”
He was their boss, Rick Mills. Built like a barrel with a square peg of a head on top, Rick liked to tell people that he was one-sixteenth troll to scare them off. He was the kind of guy who had vats of protein powder under his desk, and he was constantly trying to build muscle, even if it was just using a hand grip exerciser during a conference call.
“Do you call this eXpresso?” Rick emphasized the superfluous “X” in a way that gave Henry a headache. Rick’s voice barreled down the hallway, every word audible even through the conference room walls. He had an intern in his grip, picking up the poor boy’s sweater by the front. “I could make bett
