Marcus's POV
Her eyes glaze slightly around page four, exactly the way I planned for them to. The fluorescent light above the conference table hums faintly, a thin electric buzz that seems to underscore the silence between us. Outside the tinted windows, the city goes about its business, cabs honking, heels clicking against pavement, completely indifferent to the small transaction of a life being quietly signed away twenty-three floors above them.
This is the easiest part of the job, honestly. Easier than the actual representation, easier than the careful narrative work of turning a punchline back into a person worth investing in. That labor, the calls to editors, the strategic tears in a pre-approved interview, the carefully leaked detail about her charity work, takes months of patient
