Seventeen Minutes on Route 18 Wrecked an Eighteen-Million-Dollar Corporate Buyout
“Because if that number folds at noon, this whole floor folds with it.
Nine salaries.
The lease.
All of it.”
Nina clicked her pen twice.
“The conference line is still lit from last night,” she said very quietly, to nobody.
“Then unlight it,” Gavin said.
She left with her cold tea, and Gavin turned back to me.
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