The elevator opened directly into Jamie's private office, a huge room occupying the corner of the building with floor-to-ceiling windows giving views in two directions: Fifth Avenue to the east, Central Park just a few blocks north. The two remaining walls contained a door, a low bookshelf, and a single oil painting - a vase of flowers by Vincent van Gogh.
The black glass surface of his desk was equally uncluttered: a computer, a leather notebook, several stacks of paperwork and a framed photograph of the Lancasters during Christmas. He had the picture changed every year. And it was always the same Christmas family photo.
Jamie was deep in his thoughts and didn't notice when Eli walked in. He had been so stressed out with work and all that he hardly had time for himself, being stuck in
