He's already annoyed.

52 pages he's written, the press are hounding them, they're short on votes for a bill that's supposed to yet passed tomorrow, and the only stock he's ever invested in is now getting him investigated for fraud.

In his office, he's slumped over his desk, head in his hands, trying his best not to curse out whoever walks through that door next. He really needs this job.

He hears his door open and his head swings up, tired eyes honing on the figure there.