My Wealthy Grandmother Left Me a Single Brass Key and No Inheritance
“We have the distribution schedules for the northern locations ready for your signature,” Gary said, pointing to a small stack of papers in the incoming tray.
“I will look over them within the hour,” I said. “And I would like to schedule a walk-through of the warehouse space tomorrow morning at seven.”
Gary nodded, a small gesture of respect that felt entirely different from the cold evaluations I had grown used to receiving in my grandmother’s house.
“I will have the floor managers ready for you, Emily,” he said, before turning and quietly closing the door behind him.
The office was suddenly silent, save for the low, rhythmic hum of the compressors from the meat department below the floorboards.
I sat for a moment, letting my hands rest on the cool green blotter, looking at the empty walls of the small room.
The plaster was painted a pale cream, showing the faint outlines where old frames had hung before the office was cleared for my arrival.
I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small, heavy object wrapped in tissue paper.
