“Two thousand dollars to freeze the secondary authorizations today.

I’d rather bill you for that than have to defend you in the spring.”

“Send it over.”

He wrote the figure again, circled it, and said he would have the paperwork ready by morning.

The coffee shop in the strip mall smelled of scorched beans and damp wool.

Julian was already in the corner booth with a paper cup in front of him, the cardboard sleeve still on it.

“You look good,” he said.