Introductions
The phone rang just as Andrew Clarke-Samuel’s hand closed around the last can of Monster in the mini fridge. He grimaced, checked the label for a best-by date, and decided whatever new flavor had melted the can’s blue ink into his palm probably counted as a serving of antioxidants. He pressed the can against his forehead, the cold biting through his short-cropped hair, and let the vibration from the phone rattle against his thigh before answering. "Yeah?" On the other end, Steve Zolware’s voice carried the precise, colorless cadence of an undertaker at a Nobel ceremony. "Mr. Clarke-Samuel. I trust you’re still running S.A.C. West Coast operations." Andrew snorted, wedged the can between his biceps and his jaw, and spun his office chair to face the city’s night skyline. "Depends if there’s a next payment, Zolware. Last check bounced." He enjoyed the way Zolware’s breath caught, almost imperceptibly, but there if you were listening for weakness. Zolware re...