“We own the lifts.”

Arthur fixed his tie bar again, his eyes narrowing under the brim of his felt hat.

“If you start auditing every four-hundred-dollar line item on a holiday weekend, you’ll be framing Project Four yourself come January.”

“Is that a threat, Arthur?”

“It’s a business reality,” Arthur said.

He yanked his door open and climbed in without knocking the mud off his boots.

“Go home to your quiet house, Nathaniel.”