Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table
We’re talking about cash flow.”
“I pay my property taxes on time.”
“Barely,” she said.
“We know you struggle every quarter.
We know how close you cut it.”
She opened a desk drawer and took out a printed copy of the spreadsheet on thick, expensive paper.
She handed it over her shoulder to me.
I wiped a streak of dried mud off my hands onto my jeans before touching the paper.