TEAM WORK
LET HER GO. MAYBE SHE’LL COME BACK
Jane threw her note pad onto the conference table and shot Kyle an I’ll kill you look.
“That,” she said in an unconvincingly calm voice, “is exactly the kind of testosterone-drenched analysis I’d expect from a brain-damaged ex-jock whose only sense of numbers involves the length of his cock!”
The rest of the team pretended they were elsewhere. Eyes dropped downward, sought out heretofore unnoticed stains on opposite walls, gazed out the window at the rustic woodland setting — anything except make contact with other eyes. But Kyle’s gaze held fast on Jane. His amused smile betrayed not a flicker of doubt.
“You dispute my assessment, then?”
“Assessment!? It’s a frat-house joke.”
“It’s a fact. Tits sell.”
“We’re pitching a juicer. To health nuts. This picture contains no breasts!”
Kyle waved her off. “Not breasts. Tits. There’s a difference.”
Todd interrupted Jane’s retort.
“Maybe we should break for lunch,” he suggested, clearly missing the camaraderie he’d hoped this working retreat would generate.
“I’d like to break something,” Jane muttered as she stormed out of the room. It wasn’t lost on Kyle, nor the rest of the…
