“Yeah, actually.” I wave my phone at him with this morning’s crack of dawn email still glowing on the screen. “What the hell is this?”
He doesn’t even look up. “New initiative. It’s all in the email.”
“I read the email, Kir. What I want to know is why my name is on it.”
He pauses mid-shuffle, and, at last, looks up at me. “The selection committee reviewed candidates from across the organization,” he says in the most Corporate B.S. tone I’ve ever heard from him. “Your performance metrics stood out.”
“Well, that’s a crock of shit.”
He raises a brow. “Pardon me?”
“I’ve been on the fiftieth floor for, like, two weeks. I haven’t done anything impressive. I’ve hardly done anything at all.” I cross my arms. “So either someone specifically requested me for this thing, or there’s been some ki
