Theo Vescari arrived eleven minutes late and asked whether we had ordered.
“Not for you,” I said.
He paused beside the empty chair.
The creditor had arrived early. She was a compact woman in a navy suit who had introduced herself as the lending manager responsible for Theo’s facility. She had agreed to hear the claim being made in her institution’s name, not to discuss every detail of his finances.
I liked that distinction. Theo appeared less pleased by it.
“I hadn’t realized this was a formal meeting,” he said.
“You asked me to discuss repayment,” I answered.
“At dinner.”
“There’s a menu.”
Draven Vescari sat beside me with his water untouched. Theo took the chair opposite, leaving the lending manager at the head of the small table.
We were in a quiet restaurant a few streets fro
