Margaret dashed over to the door and locked it. She strode back over to him and thrust her finger into his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed. "You're a grown ass man." He grabbed her wrist and pushed her off. She pulled her arm away from him.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's fine." She rubbed her wrist. "Or no, it's not fine. You're not fine. You're a wreck."

"I'm not a wreck," he argued.

"No, but you're fit to boil," she said. "Did you break up with her?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It's complicated."

"Well get uncomplicated, Dale, because the meeting's in thirty minutes. What do you...