Sheldon was a decent boss, but he had strange habits.
He loved asking questions.
“What would you do if a customer refused to pay an invoice?”
“What if two employees wanted the same day off?”
“What if a supplier delivered the wrong order?”
He loved asking questions.
I’d answer, and he’d nod like he was grading an exam.
I assumed he was simply obsessed with running the business well.
Then one Friday afternoon, he called me into his office.
***
“I need a favor, Brent.”
“Sure.”
He hesitated. “My daughter’s prom is tomorrow.”
He called me into his office.
Georgia was 18. I’d seen her around the office a few times, but we barely knew each other.
“The boy she was supposed to go with backed out,” Sheldon continued. “I want you to take her.”
I thought he was joking. “Me?”
“You’re responsible. I trust you.”
