“I’m sweet enough.” The red-haired man bares his teeth in a grin. What an asshole.
“So, Eddie. You understand that point now?” The chiseled-looking man is speaking, his voice dripping with concern.
I recognize this man. Not his face—but I know him. I worked with people like this for seven years. And I know instinctively that this man doesn’t care two jots whether Eddie understands.
“Yes!” says Eddie. “Yes, of course.” He peers at the contract uncertainly, then looks at the man in the brown jacket next to him. “Paul?”
“Let’s just have a look,” replies Paul. He starts perusing the document, nodding every so often. I guess he must be Eddie’s lawyer.
“We’re as concerned about security as you are,” says the chiseled man, with a smile.
“When it comes to money, who isn’t?” quips the red-hai
