Chapter 71: Pitch for A Book Title

Damien After work hours, I found myself barging into Harold's office, only to see him yet again spilling coffee on the cuffs of his shirt. “Get yourself another one,” I said as I marched into his office and took a seat. Harold looked up, “You might as well just get me a new wardrobe at this point.” His tone was full of jest, which made me chuckle slightly. “I would if what I’m about to tell you goes well,” I said, reaching for my back and scratching my neck nervously. “Shoot,” Harold said, plopping down in the chair beside me and placing his coffee on the table. The swirling black liquid seemed to call my name. Unable to help myself, I reached for the steaming cup of coffee. Harold, however, didn’t seem to want me to have it. He reached out and smacked my hand as though he was my mother and I was a child stealing a cookie from a large plate. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m going to get you another cup.” I shook my head. “I want that cup.” I pointed at the coffee. “That’s the o