“We need the executive signatures on the preliminary guest registry and the bid confirmation before we order dinner,” the lead negotiator said, sliding the white leather folder into the middle of the table.

I reached across the white tablecloth to take the silver pen out of the folder.

Garrett got there first, his fingers closing around the pen before my thumb could touch the metal.

“I’ll handle all executive signatures from here on to spare my father any more strain,” Garrett said, looking straight at the two clients with a calm, reassuring smile.

“He’s earned the right to step back and let the next generation carry the load.”