A green glass banker’s lamp threw an oval of yellow light across his open folders and ledger pads.

He was reading a forty-page commercial lease, marking paragraphs in red pen.

I crossed the carpet and laid the white bank notice right on top of the page he was reading.

Grant stopped writing and rested his red pen on the wooden desk pad.

He looked up at me, his face smooth and completely unbothered.

He reached up with his right hand and straightened the silk knot of his navy tie.

“What’s this, Emily?”