“Meaning I haven’t approved it.”
“Depends. Were you planning to keep visiting our sales meetings half naked?”
“Reese…”
I smiled.
Then I pulled out my phone and deleted the pending order in front of him.
Greg watched the screen.
“Thank you.”
Greg watched the screen.
Greg looked at Mini Greg.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
He picked up the miniature again.
He studied his own cardboard face.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
“Wow.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“What?”
“I really posted this picture?”
“Voluntarily.”
“Publicly?”
“With three fire emojis.”
Brittany raised a finger.
“Four.”
“I really posted this picture?”
Greg groaned.
Then he looked at her.
“I really am sorry.”
“I know.”
No dramatic hug.
No instant family therapy session.
“I really am sorry.”
Brittany simply turned her laptop toward me.
“Can we please figure out why our inventory system thinks we sold twelve imaginary products?”
Greg started toward the stairs.
Still wearing his shirt.
Brittany simply turned her laptop toward me.
Halfway there, he turned back.
“Can I keep this?”
He held up Mini Greg.
“Why?”
Greg looked at the speech bubble.
Then at us.
“Because that’s objectively hilarious.”
“Can I keep this?”
Brittany snorted.
I handed him the box.
“He’s all yours.”
