“You know. Pushing candy on kids?” Matt said, looking so pleased to be holding her interest that she felt herself softening a little. “Remember when ASI had that scandal around organic food?”

“Sort of,” she lied.

“Let me take you back to the crux of the matter,” he said dramatically. “EatRiteFoods had added refined sugar to their supposedly natural snacks. The public discovered this when several unfortunate diabetics ate the stuff and went blind.” Matt gestured to the stage where, according to the circling clock, the Chief would appear in five minutes and thirty-seven seconds. “Our new boss was put at the helm of the food division to make it profitable post-scandal. Everyone expected him to cave to the eco-weenies and turn it sustainable times ten. Instead he scrapped the organics line and doubled down on high-fructose corn syrup and trans fats. Earnings went through the roof!”

“From this you conclude he’s here to announce layoffs?” Natalie asked, incredulous.

“He understands the proposition that businesses do well when they give the people what they want. Candy,” Matt said grandly, as if Natalie hadn’t been following. “Translation, increase profits, by any means necessary. Which means layoffs. Which means no one’s safe. Which means odds are, one of us is out of a job—soon.”

At that moment Bibb ascended the stage and tapped on the microphone. “Welcome, everyone!” she chirped in a childish high-pitched tone Natalie had never heard her use. “Everybody! Take your seats!” She was wearing a red dress with a white Peter Pan collar, white tights, and black ballet flats. The hem of the dress almost, but not quite, made it to her knees.

Matt nudged Natalie and pointed at her phone.

MATT: The woman obviously mugged Little Orphan Annie for her clothes. My god, hasn’t that poor child suffered enough?

NATALIE: How’d you get my number?

MATT: Do not doubt me, grasshopper.

Natalie struggled not to laugh. She didn’t want to encourage him.

Bibb continued. “You guys, I’m so happy I have the privilege of introducing the man of the moment who has a unique track record of disruptive success...” Her voice trailed off as if in awe. “Welcome the new man in our lives, the Chief!”

Bibb stepped aside and heads began to turn, hoping to catch sight of the Chief coming toward the stage from one of the side doors. Natalie had imagined that in person the Chief would look like most executives—a baldish, mid-height man with a melancholy bravado.

A bright beam of light projected down from the ceiling like the holodeck on Star Trek, recalling Natalie’s attention to an empty space at the center of the room. And the Chief appeared, a shimmering image floating just above the ground.

MATT: What the fuck is our new boss doing arriving as a beam of light? Is this normal?

Natalie couldn’t refrain from replying.

NATALIE: It’s a hologram.