33

Gael

A busy day at D'Angelo Corporation was just what I needed to keep my head in place. Dealing with the legal and accounting teams back to back was exhausting and demanded a lot from me, especially when you discover a certain thief among them. This will ruin my plans for tonight. I think as I organize some folders for analysis in my executive briefcase, and before leaving the office, I head to the corner bar and pour myself a small glass of whiskey. Facing the transparent glass wall, I gaze at Seattle's night with its lights and movements, sipping the drink. The door to my office opens, and Paul enters, holding a brown envelope. He looks at me with that damn appraising look, and a tiny smile plays at the corner of his mouth.

"Brought the data you asked for," he says, approaching my desk. I meet him halfway, and he hands me the envelope.

"Great! I was just waiting for this to head home."

"Seriously? I was thinking of inviting you to a bar. It's Friday, Gael, and we haven't done th