“It is a private equity group,” he said quickly.

“Vanguard Texas Holdings,” he said.

Vanguard was the shell company Sterling had set up for me three years ago.

“They made an offer,” Graham said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“It is a bit lower than market value, but we need the liquidity.”

“Why do we need liquidity?” I asked.

“Business is fast-paced right now,” he said, his eyes darting toward the window.

“We need to move capital around to fund a larger project in Austin.”

It was a lie, and a poor one.

I knew his creditors at Apex Bank were threatening to foreclose on his primary office building by the end of the week.

“Is everything alright with the business, Graham?” I asked.

“Of course it is,” he snapped, leaning over the desk.

“Just sign the paper, Jocelyn.”

“I don’t have time for a deposition.”

I picked up his silver pen.

The metal was warm from his pocket.

I signed my name on the line.

My handwriting was steady and clear.

Graham snatched the paper back before the ink was fully dry.