“Why? What’s wrong with it?” I demanded, thumbing through the pages. I’d written the business plan myself. The first time I’d put my business management degree to use since I graduated. “Nothing. I’d give it a B-plus, and I’ve never graded a business plan higher than a C.” His aloof, frigid eyes found mine across the thick smoke of his cigar. “But it’s useless. Bruce Marshall won’t work with you. Asshat acts as if he’s running a mom-and-pop shop in bumfuck Montana, not a company as big as Google.”
