“He handed you four thousand dollars cash last night,” I said.

Brad laughed, a light, easy laugh that floated out into the hall.

He tapped his gold signet ring on the glass top of his desk, twice, a clean, even metallic tick.

“That’s just reimbursement for stand maintenance, Amy,” he said.

“I built those four wooden boxes along the south line three years ago.

I paid for the lumber out of my own pocket.”

“He paid you four grand last year too,” I said.