“So,” Tommy said, slipping into the driver's seat of his car. “Where to first?”
“Greens?” Glancing over his friend, Tommy frowned. “Why do you want to visit the family lawyers? You know that your mom's going to take care of everything, right?”
Oliver shrugged. “I've already been talking to them,” he said.
“A promise I made to a friend.”
“And, we're just going to head on up?” Tommy asked.
Oliver grinned. “I spoke to Mr Green this morning,” he said.
“Yeah? Which one?”
Tommy whistled. “The head honcho himself. What promise are you keeping that you need him involved?”
Without reply, Oliver stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. Shrugging, Tommy followed him.
“Mr Queen.” Harold Green's secretary seemed to make it a point to sit at about midrange – middle aged, neither too sexy, nor too demure, too outspoken, nor too timid.
She was obviously expecting Oliver. “Mr Green is waiting for you.”
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