He makes a cup of coffee: milk, one sugar. Drinks it in the kitchen, his bathrobe loosely tied. He dresses in front of the mirror, tweaks his tie and collar. He walks through the hallway, steps out to the waiting car. He checks emails in his office, calls meetings, takes lunch. He looks at figures, hires, fires, shouts down the phone. He wines and dines the influential. People, when they speak at him, they say… because there is so much to say, and he is the boss, the whole damn thing… if they say, if he was losing, what, what?