“Obviously,” Corbet said as the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Please, continue with what you were talking about. Fascinating subject. I’d like to hear more. Passion. I believe that you were speaking about passion. Isn’t that correct?” He looked around at the other four men sting at the table. Each one was looking down at their own reflections, looking for redemption.
Donald slowly sank back into his seat. “I don’t really remember what I was saying, Corbet.” he stammered. “I am passionate about my job though. I cancelled a dinner with my wife and her parents to be here. This job means the world to me, Corbet. You know that, right?”
“Passion, yes,” Corbet said thoughtfully, but there was something about, I believe, obsessive behavior. Is that what I heard? Did I actually hear that correctly?” Corbet asked in a deadpan voice.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish