George Brought a Sealed Legal Folder to His Son’s Wedding in an Atlanta Hotel

“Yes,” I said.

At one o’clock, I sat alone at my desk eating a plain turkey sandwich.

Rain hit the large windows behind my chair.

My desk phone chimed twice.

I pressed the flashing green button.

“The process server just pulled into the Savannah timber yard,” Brenda said through the speaker.

“Is Douglas in his office?” I asked.

“His secretary confirmed he’s at his desk,” Brenda said.