Lansing absolutely detested the man standing over him. "Read it and weep." He wanted to add the word asshole, but he wouldn't lower himself to Owens's level. He would have the last laugh when he wrote out the check to Cosmo Cricket, knowing the million dollars would come off the top of Owens's bonus at the end of every month for the next ten months. Owens and his little posse of thugs would be going through some serious dollar withdrawals in the months to come. If Lansing had been a boisterous kind of guy, he would have gotten up and danced a jig.

He was looking forward to his luncheon date with Homer Winters, the man who had plucked him from his graduating class and given him, a skinny kid from the wrong side of the tracks, a job. He owed everything to Homer Winters and the way the old man had set him up for life. He could walk away right now, right this minute, and would never have to worry about money ever again. Even his four children and their children would never have to worry about money. All he owed Hank Owens was a good swift kick to his posterior. Maybe when he related the current events as he saw them to his boss, Homer would tell him why he kept Owens on the payroll. Then again, knowing Homer, it might not happen.

Maybe it was time to put a bug in Homer's ear, time to get out, time to let the sharks and barracudas do each other in. Time for him to let go and enjoy his remaining years in the bosom of his family.

Lansing looked around the office that his wife had decorated for him. It was a restful suite of rooms, and he had his own sparkling-clean bathroom complete with shower and a small dressing room. The two-office suite was done in soft earth tones, with just splatters of color on the walls and a few cushions. The green plants were healthy and glossy, plants he himself watered twice a week. The small fish tank built into the wall, filled with colorful fish, was so mesmerizing it often lulled him to sleep. The long sofa was made of down and easy on the eye besides being comfortable. The armchairs were just as lush. On the bookshelf behind his chair was an array of his own family pictures and a like number of Homer and his family.

In his own way, Lansing knew he was insidious when it came to Hank Owens. Because he was, he kept two large leather-bound checkbooks strategically placed on an inlaid marble table to the left of his desk, containing checks only he could make out and sign. Each time Hank Owens came into his office, his eyes invariably went to the marble table and the checkbooks. Lansing always enjoyed the naked envy in the man's eyes.