The Federalists Papers

Leon frowned and took a few aimless steps around the office. Its large bay windows showed orange-tinted skyscrapers late in the afternoon. "I admit it, I have a few problems working for you," he said with frustration. "I don't understand why you have us do things in certain ways."

Maria swung her feet off her desk onto the floor. "Our approach to the workload is completely in keeping with the goals of this division," she said. "You need to get in line. I won't have your disdain in my conference room."

"I'll continue to do the same quality work I always have done. And I'll keep picking up other people's slack as well, on top of my own pile."

"Speaking of which, where's the Leftwich account? You were supposed to have it to me last week."

"You didn't get it?" Leon said loudly. "I emailed it Wednesday, in time."

"There's nothing in my email," Maria said. "It's late, and 17 had to have it for their report on Monday. They didn't."

Leon was trying to comprehend. The missing data would come down on him. Maria could shield him, call it a department error, but why would she after he'd let his contempt show? People were brutish. There were things he knew, things about missing invoices and software overdrafts. Lines could be drawn. Outside the tint on the buildings matched the growing twilight. The light in the office had taken on the bright blunt edge of pluorescence. Leon thought of a lot of things to say, but he stared at her instead and kept himself from exploding.