As soon as his mother took her leave, Rich went up to what used to be his father’s study. Now his, though Rich needed a reminder every time he stepped inside. Easing into the leather chair always took several seconds of adjustment. A stranger experience to use his dad’s phone—no one ever took a call in here when the man lived. The ghost of his father’s voice told him to get off the line, but Rich ignored it, wishing he hadn’t several minutes later when he stumbled into trouble convincing the secretary on the other end, yes, he was Richard Gardener, the new Chairman wanting to speak to the current Managing Director, the man who stepped up when Rich’s father died. When she at last believed him, she acted like Cerberus guarding the gates of hell, an analogy he rather liked.
“There’s a meetin
