Roland made the final run up to the tenth floor. He stopped by the edge, one hand tightening around the end of the rail.
“Mr. Smith,” Taylor’s voice tumbled out from below, weary and faint. “Mr. Smith, wait up.”
Roland didn’t flinch. He glanced around the hall, towards the doors of Howard’s apartment which were slightly open, and drawing a sharp breath he hastened forward. He pushed the door open as he stepped inside, staring forward at Zoey who stood in front of her father.
“What did you say to him,” Zoey's voice edged with anger echoed faintly in the living room. “You went ahead with the deal… You said we were to discuss it in the morning.”
Roland’s chest tightened. He looked away from her to Howard who sat back on the sofa, legs crossed with a glass of wine in his hand.
Almost in
