Morrison wasn’t waiting at the time clock, but he was down the hall, standing in the doorway to the employee break room, one foot on either side of the threshold. When Vic entered the locker room, Morrison was talking to someone inside the break room and didn’t see him. But when the time clock punched his card—loudly—Morrison rocked onto the foot in the hall to see who’d come in. “Braunson. You’re late.”
“Sorry,” Vic muttered, heading in that direction. “I didn’t want to come.”
Morrison stared blankly at him as he approached. When Vic was close enough, though, his boss broke into a wide grin, and clapped Vic on the back as he entered the break room. “Good one!” Morrison roared. “None of us do. Take a seat and we’ll get started.”
Vic glanced around the break room. The dingy, battered tab
