On an Autumn Evening in Manhattan, Fifty Million Dollars Signed Away Eleven Long Years
A man named Mr.
Henderson, the senior vice president of private wealth operations, put a silver water carafe down on the low glass table.
“We got the counterfiling from Spencer’s corporate lawyers ten minutes ago,” Nora said, pushing her glasses up.
She unclipped her silver fountain pen and laid it next to three sheets of heavy cream paper.
“Did they include the release form?” I asked.
“More than the release,” Nora said.