“If, supposing that what you say is true, this project goes forward, then all fees up this point will be forfeit?”
The Retained Counsel took a sip of his oolong. “That appears to be so. Our people have looked over the fine print very carefully.”
The Businessman pressed his fingers into his temples, a habit he had carefully cultivated over the years as an acceptable alternative to screaming and throwing chairs and water coolers through office windows. It was moments like these when he wondered if maybe he should have just stuck with what came natural, wondered if maybe that ultimatum from his department head hadn’t been his escape hatch from this hell. But seventeen years of sublimation later, it was hard to tell. He took a long, slow inhale, felt his lungs stretch a tad, and let it out.