“Twelve million dollars,” he said.

I looked up at Julian, who was watching me with a calm, steady gaze.

“I can transfer five million to your escrow account tonight,” Adrian continued, his words spilling out fast. “The rest when the waterfront project breaks ground.”

“And what do you want in return?” I asked.

“A simple patent waiver,” Adrian said. “Just sign off on the Chicago designs. Let me license them back to the foundation.”

“I will not give you my work, Adrian,” I said.

“If you don’t, Bennett Urban Systems goes under by the end of the month,” he said. “The banks are freezing my operating lines.”

“That is your problem,” I said.

“Tomorrow,” Adrian pleaded. “Just meet me tomorrow. One conversation.”

I looked at Julian, who gave a slow, deliberate nod.

“The National Urban Renewal Foundation is hosting their annual gala tomorrow night,” I said. “At the Drake Hotel. I will be there.”

“The Drake?” Adrian hesitated. “That’s a public event, Claire. There will be press.”

“Take it or leave it, Adrian,” I said.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

The call went dead.