Richard
Francis buzzes me. “Richard, the elevator’s rising. I think James is on his way back up.”
“Thank you, Francis.”
Moving quickly, I grab the nearest file and head out from my office as though I want to discuss something with my PA.
The elevator doors swish open and James enters. For a moment, he stands rigid, eyes closed, rubbing his temples. “Francis,” he says. “My apologies for my tone before. That wasn’t aimed at you.”
She smiles. “I know that, James. Don’t worry about it. Would you like a coffee?”
“Thank you. Yes, I’d love one.”
“I was about to have a coffee myself, James. Would you care to join me?”
He doesn’t speak; simply nods and heads into my office. Francis gives me a look. I reply with a nod to the coffee machine and head-point her to my office.
He’s staring out o
