Evelyn Simmons took a seat next to CENTIEN's Senior VP of Tech Development in Sinclair's minimalistic corner office. She crossed her delicate ankles and smoothed her skirt. Raymond saw her swallow as she looked straight ahead. Seeing that her stubborn little face was extremely pale, he nodded with satisfaction.

She should be nervous—she's challenging a Titan.

Next to her, Lori Jacobs was ready to do battle. She waved a printed email as if she brandished a burning matador's red flag. "Ray, I have one question for you. What the hell is an Oompa-Loompa?" 

Centien's CEO rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows Oompa-Loompas are the workers at Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. They're imported directly from Loompaland." He raised his hands and made exaggerated air quotes. "Just like our interns, they'll work their asses off for free cocoa." He leaned back in his ergonomic chrome and mesh office chair and chortled.

Evelyn winced with renewed annoyance. "Mr. Sinclair, why do you disrespect the people who work for you?" She swallowed her choking pain.

Sinclair caught her gaze and narrowed his eyes. "Respect has to be earned. Did Lori put you up to this La Vida Loca behavior?" It was out of character for a subservient intern to complain about his antics.

"You stupid, ass—that's what I'm talking about." Lori's blue eyes blazed as she slid the cuffs of her navy button down shirt higher up her generous forearms. "You treat people like they're disposable trash."

Raymond scowled at his Senior Executive—a woman whose opinion he had once valued and respected. "My God, why couldn't you have stayed in the Matrix where you belong with the fucking Oracle and your rogue operating systems?"

Lori hunched her shoulders. "I prefer not to discuss your stupidity until the moderator arrives."

Dennis Lear, CENTIEN's harried CFO, breezed through the door carrying an expensive leather briefcase. In his early thirties and dressed in a dark, three-piece wool suit that looked good on his athletic frame, he was the epitome of a savvy negotiator. His last five years at CENTIEN had been a stress-filled nightmare. Now the executive's handsome face was lined, and his dark-brown temples were turning a distinguished silver. "Sorry, I'm late. You guys didn't start without me?" He took a seat and opened his laptop, then froze as the tension pierced him like a knife. "What's going on here?"

"Relax, Dennis. We're not defusing a bomb." Raymond stretched his long, jeans-clad legs out in front of him.

"I never know when it comes to you two." He smiled politely at the red-faced Senior Vice President of R&D and the nervous intern sitting beside her. "Thanks for bringing this matter to our attention, ladies. We take harassment allegations seriously at CENTIEN."

"Do you?" Lori looked at him with scathing skepticism. "I doubt that since you two are like Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum." She removed her glasses and gave Sinclair the narrow-eyed glare she reserved for unredeemable perverts.

"Of course, this company does. CENTIEN's ranked in the top five places for corporate female advancement. Sinclair cracked his knuckles and gave her a knowing side glance. "Admit it, Lori, this is another one of your lame attempts to smear my reputation. You're pissed because you were passed over for another promotion."

He pointed at Evelyn. "You're acting like a vengeful sock puppet that's trying to get back at me for demoting you to the mailroom. Tsk, tsk, I thought you were smarter than that." The handsome CEO shook his head dismissively. Leaning forward, he snatched a multi-colored Rubik cube from his neatly organized desktop.

"That's not true." Evelyn gritted her teeth.

"Did you forget I was in today's meeting?" Lori said. "Don't lie, you piece of shit." Her shoulders hunched forward. "The ethics complaint we filed is documented and it's been substantiated."

Anticipating she was about to launch her full weight on him, Raymond slid back in his chair. "Did any of the other interns file a complaint?" He raised his chin during the pregnant pause and looked at Dennis for confirmation. The exhausted CFO shook his head in the negative. "I rest my case."

"Of course, they didn't." Evelyn said. "They're afraid to speak up. They all want the marketing position."

"Asshole." Lori muttered under her breath.

Dennis cleared his throat. "Seems there's more at work here than a disagreement over Ray's sense of humor." He spread his hand in a pleading gesture and looked at Raymond and Lori. "We're senior officers. Instead of squabbling, we need to set an example for the new generation of CENTIEN employees."

"And the newbie Oompa-Loompas," Ray smirked.

"You're a textbook example of toxic masculinity," Lori spat.

"Let's not pile onto the list of Ray's negative personality traits." Lear pulled a bottle of aspirin from his briefcase.

"I have all day." Lori shifted in her seat.

"Well, I don't." CENTIEN's CEO sneered at the quivering Senior VP. "Lori, I know you're nostalgic for the days when your coding was relevant, but try to come to grips with your obsolescence."

Gripping the chair's armrests, her knuckles whitened. Her head swiveled and she address Dennis. "Do you know what he named my corporate cloud? Fat Ass. Once a day the mainframe tells me to back my Fat Ass up. I'm disgusted by his frat boy sense of humor."

"Ray, is this true?" The CFO locked eyes with Sinclair, who shrugged.

The senior executive stood up and stalked to the door. "I've had enough of this bullshit. I have other options—I'm formally giving my notice. "I'll be leaving at the end of the month." She glowered at the two men. "I loathe both of you." Making her exit, she slammed the door and then stalked down the hallway.

Sinclair brushed an imaginary stain on his shirt. "I guess she drew the line. She loathes us and she's leaving. Problem solved."

Evelyn stood up. Instead of defeat, Raymond saw a somber look of sadness cross her face. "I admired you when I first came to work here. Now I see what you are—a narcissistic monster."

His heart skipped a beat as she walked to the door and then turned around to face him. "I won't allow anyone to humiliate me, especially you."

She left the room and he found himself emotionally drained. The angry storm of conflicting emotions in her eyes had made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her. Take away the pain and hurt he had caused her. He struggled to maintain a mask of cold indifference.

Dennis looked at Sinclair. "What's going on with you? We need Lori. She runs the top producing tech division. And this," he grabbed the email she'd flung on his desk. "Don't tell me this is another workplace affair that's ended in a dumpster fire.

The pince-nez sitting atop his nose trembled as he read excerpts from the red-flagged Human Resources' email. "Mr. Sinclair intimated several interns should volunteer to offer him a blow job." He glowered at CENTIEN's brilliant, socially inept founder. "I've known you for over ten years. You can be cruel to staffers, but it's not like you to go bat shit crazy on them. What exactly of yours did Miss Simmons fuck up?"

Sinclair stopped rotating the deceptively simple, three-dimensional puzzle and met his friend's probing gaze. Lear was the opposite of him in every way and it often irritated him. "You care about people, Dennis—that's your problem—a major flaw in the corporate psyche of a manager."

"Of course, I care about people."

He privately acknowledged that his best friend often gave him a fresh perspective and pointed out instances where his personal biases might cloud his judgment instead of being a sycophant. "Nothing's going down in flames, Dennis. Let me tell you my side of the story. Miss Simmons went rogue, that's what happened." He shrugged, lifting his shoulders, palms facing up. "She tried to hijack the marketing agenda, so I decided to teach her a lesson."

Seeing his senior administrator's mounting fury, he held up his hand. "Relax—everyone knew I was joking when I chewed her out, except her. You should have seen her face. She was so flustered she spilled coffee all over herself. Oompa-Loompa Doopity Do...it was hilarious."

Sinclair dropped the plastic puzzle and upset his prized BangBangDa Zen sand garden. "Lori shouldn't have been my head of Product Development. I never trusted her after I learned she shared company secrets with Satoshi Nakamoto."

"Your ex-girlfriend? Why would she do such a thing?"

"Who else could have? Only she had that level security clearance." He shrugged. "I think Satoshi seduced her."

Seeing Dennis' speechless face, he added, "If she could seduce me, she could seduce anyone."

"You're an indiscriminate ass when it comes to women." Lear scooped sugary piles of white sand from the desk and used a miniature bamboo rake to claw serpentine furrows in the meditative box. "Everything's not always about you."

"As for Evelyn Simmons, she's Talent's problem. She's too pretty—I mean headstrong to be my Marketing Associate. She needs to go. Let Human Resources clean up their own mess." Sinclair leaned back in a modified office lounge chair, propping his dirty, stocking feet, ankles crossed, on his elaborate desk. Lear scrambled to move his glasses' case before it was crushed.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Dennis exhaled sharply. "She's not unruly or headstrong—she's smart and ambitious. Evelyn Simmons scored the highest in her intern focus group on conceptualization and empathy. I hand picked her myself and I want her in the new marketing position. We need team leaders with drive and intuition." Sighing, Dennis removed his glasses and wearily massaged the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe you obliterated her for getting your beverage order wrong. She left the building in tears. You always alienate the women you're attracted to. Just because Satoshi—"

"Stop—I don't find her attractive at all." He flung his feet off the desk. "I demoted her to the mail room for spilling coffee on me. She's lucky I didn't fire her on the spot." CENTIEN's CEO waved his hand dismissively. "She can work her way back up once she learns the difference between decaf and regular. Then the joke will be on me." Agitated, Sinclair pulled out his new ten-thousand-dollar smartphone and admired the slick, platinum casing. "Remember, these neophytes work for free because they're clueless. We have hundreds more Loompalas dying to apply for internships." Rocking in an agitated manner, he scanned his phone and muttered, "When has anyone empathized with me when I fucked up?"

Dennis yanked the smart phone out of his hands. "CENTIEN's a multinational tech company, not a Jurassic Park ride where you can run around chewing the heads off helpless staff. Stop being evil. They're human beings with feelings, not slave labor."

"That's Google's lame motto, not mine." Sinclair snatched his phone back." If I'm going to be wicked, I own my actions—unlike Google." His smile didn't reach the corner of his eyes.

"Raymond, people already despise you more than Steve Jobs." Lear closed his laptop. "Even I'm beginning to hate you."