Tell him Mr. Li wants to see you

"Mr. Li asked to see me," you say.

"That's right, he did," he says, "better get your ass in here, then."

He directs you inside with an arrogant smirk.

Your boss, Jianguo Li is seated at a small table in the far corner of the room. His hand is pressed against his face; he's deep in thought. He seems tired and worried. Strange. Mr. Li isn't easily discouraged. He escaped communist China back in the 80s, and he's built a successful life here in the U.S.

His black hair is starting to streak with silver. You would guess that he's in his early 50s. He's wearing a dark gray suit with a crisp white shirt. Small golden spades pattern his black tie.

He looks up at you as you enter and nods at you with a weak smile. "Ryan, perhaps you could leave us for a while. Go downstairs for a drink. Come back in a half hour."

Ryan frowns and seems to want to say something, but then he shrugs and leaves.