To be this insulting not only to the people you work for, but work with . . . it's just breathtaking. At this point, David Bradley must be like some kind of battered wife.
You don't understand what it's like with Andrew when it's just the two of us alone together--he's so smart and counterintuitive. When he shreds the magazine's credibility and pisses all over those other drones . . . that's as much my fault as it it his. I should have asked him about the redesign first. I should have made him a bigger part of the long-range planning of the institution. That's why he lashed out like that. If only I could really prove to him how much I love him, then everything would be perfect. Oh God! I just realized we took the green away! Now the Islamic Republic of Iran will never fall and it'll be my fault. He's going to be so mad. Maybe I could stay with my sister . . .