Frank leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his face lined with deep worry.

“You lost your footing twice this week, Raymond,” Frank said slowly.

“And at dinner last night you could hardly stand up to shake the client’s hand.”

“It was a minor dizzy spell,” I said, clearing my throat first.

“I just need a few good nights of sleep.”

“Garrett is worried about you,” Frank said, his gravelly voice softening.

“He suggested we draw up a temporary proxy agreement for the board vote.”

“A proxy agreement,” I repeated, my hand dropping into the coat pocket where the forged yellow form lay folded.