I was in one of the smaller conference rooms at Colliers. It was elegant, and exquisite in its simplicity. Tactically placed pieces of original fine art, sweeping views of the city, a Mies van der Rohe Barcelona side chair.
Like myself, Darrin had inherited family money and spent it freely. The office was filled with priceless, rare items. He did not need to work. Late at night, talking in hushed tones during our Princeton days, we’d called it our secret curse, our enormous inherited wealth, but he saw it as a challenge to create opportunity, to drive himself. He used his given wealth to construct greater things, while I could never quite shake the feeling that nothing I did mattered. Until now, until Tad.
I was working on the most critical element of my design: the steep angle sweeping
