She nodded once and introduced herself as Margaret Sutton, with her assistant named Claire Hughes. She told me the job was temporary and handed me a heavy business card with an address in the wealthiest neighborhood I had ever heard of.
“If you are late, do not come at all,” she added.
I arrived exactly on time.
The estate was enormous, with white stone walls and tall columns that reflected sunlight like polished glass. A man in a suit opened the door before I could knock, and I followed him into a cool marble hallway that made my footsteps sound out of place.
Margaret waited in a sitting room with her assistant, and they questioned me carefully about my abilities and limitations. I answered honestly, sometimes with humor that surprised even me, and eventually Margaret stood and said, “You should meet him.”
We went upstairs to a large bedroom filled with silence that felt heavy and controlled. He sat near the window in a motorized chair, looking out over the lawn with a posture that still carried authority despite everything.
“Mr. Delgado,” Margaret said, “this is Olivia Brooks.”
He turned slowly, and his eyes landed on me with immediate judgment. “No,” he said flatly.