A common definition of a compromise is an agreement where no one ends up happy. It appears that Quinn doesn’t listen to that definition…
“Where is he?” Caitlin asked as she glared at the empty seat as she tapped at her desk.
Looking up from his papers, Quinn sighed. Glancing over to his friend, he muttered a response. “Malark knows how much his tardiness annoys you.”
“Excuse me?” Caitlin asked as she leveled an icy glare at the other triumvir.
“Why do you think he’s constantly late?” Quinn asked with a lopsided grin.
“Is it too much to ask for a little decorum from him?”
“No, but at the same time if you just left it alone, he would stop wasting our time.”
Caitlin stood up and walked over to Quinn and was about to chastise when the door to the room opened. With a glance over her shoulder, Caitlin spotted the heavy-set individual waddling into the room.
With a huff, Caitlin stalked back to her desk as the new arrival slowly approached his own and spoke with a thready voice. “I do apologize for being late, a meeting with several concerned citizens occupied me.”
Lifting a pen, Caitlin shook her head and asked. “Malark, it’s still far too early to discuss the eventual workings of our new federation.”
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