Chapter 12: Prison Isn't Worth It.
"I told you. Your breakfast."
I follow him because as an assistant—especially one with nothing else to do—it seems the thing to do. He sits in his chair unwrapping the breakfast sandwich and taking the lid off the coffee. He sniffs it and his nose crinkles in disgust. Tapping the cover back on top he hands it across the space to me.
"Don't screw with me. This isn't coffee. Coffee comes black. This is sludge. I don't know what kind of man you take me for, Ms. Marshal, but I don't drink that. Everyone in this building knows how I take my coffee. You should learn too."
"Okay," I say with my teeth clenched together. The secretary on the fourth floor and I need to have a chat. I can't believe somebody would deliberately lie about something as stupid as coffee.