David called the next day at noon.

Arthur had said nobody would call me.

Apparently that rule lasted only until someone wanted something.

He proposed coffee at a roastery on Broad Street.

I agreed to meet him shortly after two, taking time away from my desk to see whether a conversation without Arthur might accomplish anything.

David stood near the pickup counter with his arms crossed, obliging other customers to step around him.

His charcoal suit was immaculate.