The Top of the Cap Table
I looked directly at the wires, and I cut them, and I watched the act come down.
I looked at Theodora, whose manicured hands were shaking now around the ruined strand of pearls.
“You were right about one thing,” I said.
“Service staff should know their place.” I bent, peeled the wet linen napkin off my ankle, and let it drop onto the teak.
“And mine is at the top of the cap table.”
I let the words settle.