57Richard Henderson walked the perimeter hallway, passed the offices of his senior staff. He referred to this practice as his four corner offense, a reminder of his years as the point guard of a successful parochial university’s basketball team. The first corner office he came to belonged to Grace Woo who was absorbed by something on her computer monitor.
“Anything interesting?” Henderson asked from the doorway.
Woo flinched in her chair.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I’m glad you stopped by.” Woo gathered herself. “I was going to come by your office later but as long as you’re here I need to give you something.” She handed him an envelope from her top drawer.
“What’s this? Are you leaving us?” he joked and slid his finger through the flap to access her handwritten note. “I
