I kept the receipts.

I knew, to the dollar, where every dollar in our life came from and went.

Luke found all of that boring.

Beneath him.

The unglamorous machinery of money, he believed, was for lesser people — for clerks and assistants and wives — while the real work was the deals and the lunches and the performance of importance.

And that division, which he was so sure of, turned out to be the exact fault line along which his whole life would split.