Grant Anders had very little reaction to the young man bursting into his office. He didn't have a lock on his door, in an effort to foster trust and communicability within FTLC. 

It also helped that he had multiple industrial-grade sonic cannons installed around the room. Each was on a swivel axle, and as soon as the door opened (without the opener announcing their arrival and their business), Grant casually reached under his desk and flicked the dial up to four out of ten. The cannons sent the proper amount of soundwaves at the intruder, while Grant heard nothing at all.

One on the dial was excellent for listening to music in a surround sound fashion. Four was the equivalent of a space-bound projectile's launch sequence. In other words, it was dangerous to toy with Grant when he was having a bad day.

After a few relaxed seconds of aural agony, Grant turned the dial back to one. One of his multiple relaxing playlists was what came out of the cannons next. Unless the intruder was wearing inch-thick ear plugs--or they were deaf--there would be at least some discomfort in the room, and not from Grant.

He waited for a moment, until his words would be heard properly, "I'm sorry about that, kid. I have a very strict policy about seeing people. I'm a busy guy." A little camera buzzed in, circling Grant like he was some B-Movie villain. It was a Panasonic model. Grant didn't much care for Panasonic.

"Since you've interrupted my schedule without a care in the world, why don't you take a seat over there--" he pointed to a few chairs in the corner of the room. "--while I finish up what I was doing. Unless, that is, you want me to call security." Grant returned to his throne, after which, two things occurred, both of them phone calls.

"This is Grant Anders, President and CEO of Forward-Thinking Leader Collective. I'm quite busy, so make it quick."

"Boss?" Grant sighed. It was Anton, from the Mafia. "We caught someone snooping around here that you might want to talk to. Randall was gonna off her, but I thought you'd want final say."

Typical mob tactics, try to gain favor with the important people. "Thank you, Anton. I would like to speak with her. Please hold her there until I'm able to make it to her." In truth, it would probably be a long, long time before he could be bothered to go see what they were talking about.

"No problem, boss. You have a good day." Grant hung up.

"Sorry about th--" the phone cut him off. "Damn. This is Grant Anders, President and CEO of Forward-Thinking Leader Collective. I'm quite busy, so make it quick."

"Are you okay, Anders?" Ah, it was Angela. What a woman. No fear at all.

"Fine, Angela, just stressed. What is it?"

"You have a new chemist down in the offices. And," she continued, taking the word right out of Grant's mouth, "He is the one who got traded over from PartyBuzzDrugs Inc." She said the name as if it was the most serious title ever created. "The one who we have no idea about. Point is, Anders, I think you should go down and take a look at him."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Angela, I'm already behind schedule, I can't be expected to look over every new person in the offices." Silence from the phone. "Fine. You know what, just send him up to me. It's not like I'm not getting enough visitors already. Make sure he identifies himself properly, please. I can't be trusted not to liquefy the next person who walks through my door unannounced." He glared very pointedly at the young man in the room.

"Very good, sir. I'll send the electrician up when they arrive, as well. Oh, and by the by, Lawless has yet to return your message. Thought you'd want an update." Angela hung up. Only a half-decade younger than he was, but she seemed to Grant the most efficient being to ever walk the Earth. Didn't mean she didn't infuriate him half the time.

He looked over at the kid. "Okay, you're here. Someone else is coming, so talk. Multiple someones, actually. If one of them gets here before you finish, tough."