A little after nine in the morning, Adam arrives at the studio with his friends. Mike looks like he just woke up and Trace has a girl tucked under his arm who he introduces as Janie. “Our groupie,” Adam says. The way she glares at him when he says that suggests she isn’t happy with the term.
Paul leads them into his office. It isn’t as grand as Lew’s—in fact, it looks a little like his dorm room had back in college, with a battered futon folded against the wall, and a few Papasan chairs and huge bean-filled pillows placed around a low oval table. He works from a laptop and likes to stretch out on the futon, kick off his shoes, and stare out his window, which overlooks the river since his office is on the opposite side of the building from Lew’s. Sometimes if Lewis isn’t in he brings his c
