“Mr. Dymon, one thing you should know by now is that I know you better than you know yourself. Letting her call you Mr. Dymon, knowing no one in the world calls you that shit. Punk.” “Whatever.” I waved him off. “Get out my office.” “I’m just saying. You didn’t see your face when she was berating you. I could tell that by the end of the day, she’ll have the double offer and the work phone. You got it bad. Hasn’t even been forty-eight hours yet. I already got mad respect for her.” “Fuck outta here, Diesel.
