Harper lost the Wheeler account. He felt it slip through his fingers like something warm and sticky, making a mess of everything. He spent the rest of the morning in Johnstone’s office, staring at the burgundy carpet as his boss leaned a finger into Harper’s face and raged.
At lunch, at the Club, Harper dumped a saucer of Ranch dressing into his lap.
Kelly called around 3. The toilet again. Gray water puddling fast in the bathroom, spilling down the hallway, and threatening their Tree of Life rug carted all the way from Barcelona by her late father.
