Jokingly, I flip to the blank back page and then to the front again. “I don’t know, sir. I think I might want my lawyer to look this over. Possibly my agent.” “Sign the fucking paper, Posey.” “Yup,” I say, nearly jumping out of my seat from his booming voice. I grab a pen off his desk, sign quickly at the bottom, and then hand the paper back over to him. “Should we shake? Hug it out? Grab a whiskey and cheers?” “Get the fuck out of my office.” “Sooo, that’s a no on the celebration?” “Get out,” he yells while pointing at the door. “Great, yup, I wanted to leave anyway.” I stand from my chair
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