Forty Thousand Dollars and the Deed to Maple Avenue Bakery

clock ticked in the quiet room, the sound suddenly very loud between us.

“I have wanted to ask you something for a very long time,” he said.

I looked down at the brass paperweight on his desk, its surface cold and polished.

“Perhaps we could have dinner tonight,” Arthur said. “Just the two of us.”

“I would like that, Arthur,” I said, and the relief of continue reading …