No More Discounts For Toxic Kin
Language: en
New Year’s Day dinner was always an exercise in endurance, but this year, my sister-in-law decided to skip the pleasantries and go straight for the jugular. She looked across the table, a smug, cat-like grin spreading across her face. "Oh, Morgan, I almost forgot," Cynthia said, swirling her Pinot Noir. "About those twenty workstations your firm ordered? I’m going to have to pass. I’m not filling the order." I paused, my fork halfway to my mouth. "Excuse me?" "I landed a contract with a massive tech corp the other day. Fifty high-end units, top-of-the-line specs. Real money," she said, her…