Chapter 4

I was reviewing design sketches at my desk when my phone buzzed with a text from Christopher: *Meet me at my office. 2 PM. Important.*

No please. No context. Just a command, delivered with his typical entitlement. Three weeks ago, I might have rearranged my entire schedule to accommodate him. Today, I simply texted back: *I'll be there at 2:30.*

Christopher's corner office on the thirty-eighth floor offered a sweeping view of Manhattan that he'd always been inordinately proud of. When his assistant ushered me in, he was standing at the window, hands clasped behind his back in what I…