Chapter 7
The ceiling-high, double-steel door automatically slid open when Ciaran approached, revealing a vast lush office with glass windows opening to the endless horizon of the city. Before the door closed, Lindsay called from behind, “Ciaran!” and trailed into the office with a stack of paper in his hands.
Ciaran turned around. “Yes, Lindsay, did I forget to sign something?”
Lindsay Freeman was in his late thirties and had been Ciaran’s right-hand man as long as Ciaran had been in business. As they were of similar age, Ciaran could talk to Lindsay almost about anything. They were good friends, and Ciaran trusted Lindsay to be the face of the business when it came to dealing with outsiders.
“You’ll want to take a look at this,” Lindsay said and put a computer disc on the desk.
Ciar
