George Brought a Sealed Legal Folder to His Son’s Wedding in an Atlanta Hotel
The grand crystal chandeliers were turned off for the afternoon.
I walked past the front desk, where a clerk was sorting room keys, and knocked on the frosted glass door of the manager’s office.
Mr.
Vance opened the door.
He wore a sharp gray suit and a nervous expression.
“Mr.
Abernathy,” he said.
“Please come in.”