““Honey, I handed you the world’s worst ad, stomped up and down, and screamed at you. Shouldn’t you be pushing 98 degrees?” I still wasn’t getting it. “Hot?” She paused. “Angry with me? Aren’t you ticked off? Pissed? Something?” She had a point. “You need to break it down every now and then. Stand up for yourself. Somewhere you got the idea that saying what you want is a sin right up there with murder and sour notes, but, honey, you’ve got to get over it. You’re running a business. You can’t make everyone happy. Shouldn’t even want to.” She pointed at me with an inch-long nail. “You have to watch out for you.””