He reached inside and pulled out a thick blue folder.

He laid it on the coffee table between us.

“We can sign them tonight,” he said.

“Then we can put all this worry behind us.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sleek, silver pen.

It was the same pen he had used in the video.

The phone inside his briefcase suddenly lit up, the screen flashing bright against the leather interior.

A text message banner appeared on the screen.

I looked down and read the name on the lock screen.

*Courtney Briggs.*

“Are you going to get that?” I asked.

My voice was flat, devoid of the tremor I felt inside.

Jared glanced down at the open briefcase.

His hand moved quickly, flipping the leather lid shut.

The brass latches clicked again, softer this time.

“It is just work,” he said.

He offered another warm, practiced smile.

“Nothing that cannot wait until we finish here.”

He pushed the heavy blue folder an inch closer to my side of the coffee table.

The silver pen caught the light from the chandelier overhead.