Dear CEO, I Want a Divorce
he said, pushing buttons that clearly didn’t work, “distribution’s finally gotten interesting again.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
He chuckled, that grandfatherly kind of laugh that always sounded like it hurt. “Used to be just shipments of diabetes medication and bandages. Now we’re researching… Belgian chocolate, Himalayan herbs, rare saffron. It’s like we’re running a damn boutique.”
“Exciting.” I smiled, not blinking.
“And this Zenith thing,” he said, scratching his chin. “No idea what it’s really for, but I heard it's luxury edibles. Real posh stuff. Feels like Christmas.”
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