I drag Thatcher Stag through the office by the lapels of his blazer, only partially wondering why he's more dressed up today to come to the Post's headquarters than he was at his damn art opening. Once we reach the lobby, I let go of him and start laying into him. "Look, I don't know what you heard or what you are thinking, but you can't be here right now. I'd prefer if you left."

The asshole grins at me. "From what I heard, your boss wants you talking to me. Pronto. Asking me ...