“I’m listening, Cole,” I said.

He rubbed the silver Whitmore crest on his right cuff, polishing the platinum with quick, rhythmic strokes of his thumb.

“I overreacted because of year-end tax deadlines, Lauren.

The pressure from the executive committee was huge, but that doesn’t excuse how I spoke to you.”

“And the two hundred and eighty thousand dollars?” I asked.

“An investment transfer to a SoHo holding firm,” Cole said instantly, talking over the end of my question.

“A standard corporate cash buffer.