It was the last thing that Vincent ever expected to happen. His mouth went dry and his palms began to sweat as Mr. Thatcher led the tall broad man toward his office. The sound of his keys was nerve-racking, and Vincent knew that he had to get them away from the young man someday. He had never seen Andrew Roshire in that part of the city, let alone in his bank. After swallowing hard, he glanced at the book on the shelf. Even though he did not know why Andrew was there, it was likely that he would have to pay him to leave.
“That’s alright, Drake.” Andrew stepped into the office. “Don’t bother getting up.” Mr. Thatcher closed the door behind him, and Vincent nearly jumped at the sound.
“What do you want?” Vincent tried to keep his fear hidden.
“Come on,” he began in a deep, yet soft v
