My wife’s male assistant claimed he had chronic poor circulation, which meant the air conditioning had to be set to a sweltering eighty-six degrees Fahrenheit even in the middle of a blazing summer. Otherwise, he was prone to catching cold. He also had a strict, non-negotiable rule: no one was permitted to eat in the office, ever, because the mixture of food smells was too much for his delicate senses. The employees were practically suffering from heatstroke, forced to hug their takeout containers and eat their lunch huddled miserably in the bathroom stalls. They complained repeatedly, yet my wife, Sloane Merritt, was not only indifferent to their plight. She actually chuckled and handed the assistant, Jasper Jeffrey, total jurisdiction over the entire office. “Jasper is a meticulous, high-vibration guy. He has sophisticated tastes, and it’s good for all of you to have him around to break your bad habits.” With her blatant encouragement, Jasper Jeffrey became a miniature tyrant, micro-managing everything from the thermostat to lunch breaks. The entire office simmered with resentment, and many longtime, loyal employees resigned. I couldn’t stand by and watch the corporate culture rot. After discussing it with Sloane multiple times to no avail, I took executive action and suspended the male assistant for three days. Sloane didn’t say anything to my face. She acted as if nothing had happened. But a few months later, the small company my father had set up for me was intentionally sabotaged into bankruptcy. I went to find Sloane, but overheard her talking to her friends first. “Sloane, I have to say, you are brutal. That’s your father-in-law’s business, and you just tanked it?” She gave a soft, dismissive scoff. “My father-in-law means nothing. He only has himself to blame after Christopher forced Jasper into suspension. He cried and was depressed for days. I was heartbroken for him. Bankruptcy is exactly what they deserve.” “Once Christopher Vaughn realizes he’s a low-s