The lobby smelled of fresh floor wax, stale coffee, and wet wool coats hanging on the brass coat rack by the heavy glass doors.

A teller named Sarah sat behind the second window, sorting green deposit slips into a clear plastic tray.

“Good morning, Mrs.

Vance,” Sarah said, smiling across the polished marble counter.

“Are you bringing in the weekly contracting deposit today?”

“Not today, Sarah,” I said, resting my hands on the polished edge of the counter.

“I need to check a counter transfer made from our main business operating account on October twentieth.”

I wrote our seven-digit company account number on a white index card with a blue ballpoint pen and slid it across the counter.