LONG SHOT

DAMIEN

I’m in my office, staring at the computer screen, as the numbers scroll by in a mocking parade of red and zeroes. This is a nightmare—one technical glitch, and suddenly I’m haemorrhaging money by the second. I clench my fists, willing myself to stay calm, but it’s like everything is slipping out of my control. My phone buzzes in my hand again, and I barely recognize the voice on the other end as mine when I bark a greeting.

“James, where are we on this? I don’t want excuses. I need solutions!”

The voice on the other line stammers, going on about server errors, and backup delays, but I can’t even process the words anymore. I grit my teeth, my patience unravelling like a thread.

“Enough!” I snap, my voice colder than I intended. “I don’t care what you have to do—get it fixed. Now.”

I hung up before he could respond and immediately called the finance team. They’re scrambling too, I know, but I don’t care. This is my responsibility, my reputation is on the line, and it feels like t