I opened the door for him.

“I will see you on Friday,” I said.

He walked down the limestone steps and climbed into the back of his waiting black town car.

I watched the car crunch slowly down the long gravel driveway.

When the red taillights disappeared past the main stone gate, I closed the heavy door.

I picked up the white tax waiver from the table.

I walked into the study and pulled open the top drawer of Robert’s desk.