“What is it Allegra?” Mariella Zangari demanded when Allegra knocked on her office door that afternoon. “I’m too busy to chat.”

As if, Allegra scoffed to herself, but she couldn’t help feeling just a bit defensive. There she was in her jeans and sweater and as usual, Mariella was perfectly dressed and coiffed, her makeup perhaps a little more dramatic than a day job warranted but that was part of her style.

Allegra decided the best defense was a good offense, so without preamble she blurted out, “Gary Wisnicki came to see me this morning.”

If Mariella’s brow hadn’t been frozen by Botox, she would have furrowed it as she tried to puzzle out who Gary Wisnicki might be.

“The factory foreman,” Allegra said helpfully.

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