A tingle crawled up the back of Jim’s neck. Someone was behind him. He groaned inwardly as the odor of stale cologne assaulted his nostrils. If I don’t turn around, maybe he’ll go away, he thought, focusing intently on the computer screen in front of him. He sighed as his supervisor cleared his throat.. Putting on what he hoped was a pleasant smile, Jim swiveled his chair around. “Hey, Bill, what’s up?” he asked. “Jim, I hate to drop this on you, but I need you to take the Wilson project. Th...