“Samantha said the date will be released if we don’t lock it in today,” Brandon said without looking up from his screen.

I took my pen from the brass holder.

The printed check lay neatly on my desk pad.

My son was entirely focused on impressing a family that was quietly pulling wealth out of his own.

I signed the initial venue reservation check at my oak desk while Brandon checked his phone.

Rain hit the heavy glass windows of the Kingsley Timber office in steady sheets.

I sat across from Douglas Kingsley at his wide pine desk in Savannah.