My thoughts kept returning to the handwritten note beneath it.
Ask what happened after you left.
I turned the card over.
Nothing else was written. No name, no signature.
Only the thick cream paper and blue ink.
Someone wanted me there.
And whoever it was knew exactly what question I had asked George.
Who is "they?"
A knock landed lightly against my open office door.
Priya leaned in.
"Still here?"
I checked the clock; it was nearly eight pm.
"I lost track."
"You've earned that right today."
She walked in carrying her bag.
"The whole office's gone to Bennett's."
"What's the occasion?"
"Celebration."
"I thought Arthur hated celebrations."
"He does."
"So?"
"He hates losing clients more."
I laughed.
"So that's a yes?"
"I'll come."
Bennett's was louder than usual.
Someo
