Escorting Paul and Dawson to Mr. Anderson felt like the longest walk of my life, although it really took less than 90 seconds to cross the length of the foyer and into his office.
The door was slightly ajar, I could see Mr. Anderson standing over his desk, paperwork scattered in front of him. I lightly knock on the door, waiting for Mr. Anderson to invite us in, before pushing it the rest of the way open.
Mr. Anderson stood up tall, adjusting the glasses on his very structured face. He smiles slightly as baby Mason coos in my arms at the sight of him, but only for a breif moment.
"Welcome gentlemen, may I offer you a drink?"
"We'll have to double whiskey neat, if you will." Paul doesn't hesitate his request, answering for both himself and Dawson. His eyes are locked on mine, and I
