“This was supposed to be a private strategy meeting between Frank and me,” I said.

Frank looked at me across the table, his face drawn into deep lines of worry.

“We all want what’s best for you, Raymond, even when you can’t see it yourself.”

Garrett nodded and laid his hands flat on the white tablecloth.

“That’s why I’m here, Dad.

Frank asked me to step in.”

Two men in gray suits walked up to our booth with leather portfolios under their arms.

“Frank, Raymond,” the lead negotiator said, holding out his hand.