The Request
Greer called at eight fifteen Thursday morning. I was still in the lift when my phone rang — his number, which he used directly only when something couldn’t wait for the system. “Miss Vale.” Professional. Careful. The voice of a man choosing his words. “Is Mr. Voss in yet?” “I’m just arriving. He usually comes in at nine.” “I need to speak to him before the board sees this.” A pause. “There’s been a development on the filing.” “What kind of development?” A beat. “Irina Vasek contacted the firm directly. Last night. Through the legal inbox.” Another pause. “She’s asked to speak with Mr. Voss personally. Before Friday.” I sat at my desk for seven minutes before Lucian arrived. Seven minutes of the Greer email open on my screen, reading it twice, deciding. The email was three lines.
- Writer
