Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

hummed overhead. Arthur, my business partner, sat across from me in the small glass-walled office, tapping his gold watch face.

“It is a standard signature, Mabel, just to extend the line of credit for the new distribution routes,” he said, pushing a three-page document across the desk.

I looked at the line that required my signature as co-owner.

“We continue reading …