“Excuse me,” demanded Rich in a firm tone as he shoved his way past me on his way to the break room. His eyes held in them a deeply serious look, a bit less sincere than I was used to. Behind him stood Martin, a bit hunched over, concealing something under his loose fitting red Staples shirt. “What’s that?” I asked, attempting to peer over the shoulder of my intimidating boyfriend and get a glimpse of the odd form under Martin’s shirt behind him. “Move!” exclaimed a determined Martin, as I was carelessly shoved out of the way ....