The next day, in Jonathan's office, he was leaning back in his chair, eyes focused as he reviewed the documents Marc had submitted. He wore a crisp black silk shirt and a silver-gray tie, his perfect face devoid of any expression.
Marc clasped his hands in front of him, hesitated for a moment, then tentatively spoke up, "Mr. Drucker, could we possibly change the timing for the trip to the United States?"
Jonathan took the pen, annotating the document without looking up, and replied curtly, "No."
Having worked under him for two years, Marc was usually not one to say much, but this time he couldn't help himself. "But isn't this rather unfair to Mrs. Balas?"
Jonathan paused his signing for a moment, a hint of impatience crossing his brow. "What's fair or unfair about it?"
Unfazed by the hostility in Jonathan's expression, Marc spoke frankly, "Leaving the bride alone on her wedding night to travel to America—is that fair to her?"
