“I’m aware.”
I closed the folder.
“Why me?”
Eleanor became serious.
“Because when my life had no value to you beyond being human, you treated it as valuable anyway.”
Her eyes glistened.
“I have spent forty years hiring people who could read balance sheets.”
She paused.
“I want one person at the table who remembers there are human beings behind them.”
I couldn’t speak.
Then she added:
“And there’s another condition.”
“What?”
“You do not invest a single dollar in a company until you have met at least one ordinary employee.”
I smiled.
“That I can do.”
“So?”
I stared at the contract.
Then thought about Gavin.
About my daughters.
About the highway.
About every car that had passed Eleanor before mine.
I picked up the pen.
But before I signed, Eleanor stopped me.
“One more thing.”
She reached into her handbag and placed an old envelope on the desk.
