THE CARD
Anthony should have thrown it away.
That was the logical thing to do.
The reasonable thing.
The normal thing.
Yet three days later, Diana's Father's Day card still sat on his desk.
Right beside several billion-dollar contracts.
The contrast was absurd.
One document represented millions.
The other was construction paper covered in glitter.
Guess which one held his attention.
"You've been staring at that card for ten minutes."
Anthony looked up.
His assistant stood in the doorway.
Again.
Always appearing at the worst possible moments.
"I haven't."
"You have."
"I was thinking."
"About the card."
Anthony sighed.
The woman was annoyingly observant.
His assistant approached.
Carefully inspecting the colorful paper.
