“I spotted my wife’s Buick out in the lot and figured she was eating up your valuable time over a simple misunderstanding.”

Donald shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

“Penelope was asking about thirty-eight electronic transfers of eight hundred dollars apiece, taken out steadily over three years.”

“Those are our pre-authorized annuity contributions, Donald,” Bob said with a light wave of his hand.

“We set them up to build our retirement fund through the regional clearing branch down in Westfall.”

Donald peered down at the ledger line through his bifocals.