EIGHT
TOM BANNON INTRODUCED us to the others. The older gentleman, David Glassberg, turned out to be the owner, the boss, the man in charge of everything, as I had guessed. One in the long line of succession of this massively successful family business. The woman, the very-attractive-and-becoming-more-so-by-the-second-lawyer, was his daughter.
The other woman, still pouring over the documents, was introduced as Debbie Feinstein. When she got up to greet us, I noticed that I had been correct about her choice of attire. Denim and boots. Stylish.
“Gentlemen, please. Have a seat,” Bannon motioned to two of the chairs opposite the group and took one at the head of the table to our right.
“I realize we have taken up a lot of your time, of course you will be compensated, we really appreciate
