He blew on it, his shoulders dropping in a massive sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he muttered, not looking at me.

He slid the document back into his leather portfolio.

“I have to go meet Harrison,” he said.

“The broker?” I asked.

“Yes,” Graham said, moving toward the door.

“He is representing the buyer.”

“We are finalizing the contract tonight.”

“When is the closing?” I asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said.

“Ten o’clock at the Apex Bank offices downtown.”

“They are handling the escrow.”

He paused at the doorway, his hand on the frame.

He looked back at me, a brief flash of his old arrogance returning to his eyes.

“This deal is going to put us back on top,” he said.

“Tell the girls I will be late for dinner.”

He turned and hurried back down the hallway.

A moment later, the front door heavy-thudded closed.

I waited until I heard his SUV start up and roar down the driveway.

Then I picked up my phone and dialed Sterling.

He answered on the first ring.

“He just left,” I said.

“Did he get the waiver?” Sterling asked.