Clay forced himself to relax and shook Crain’s hand. “Welcome, Richard. This is unexpected. Would you care for a drink?”

“No, that’s not necessary.” Crain dropped into a chair and crossed one leg over his opposite knee. “I came to update you.”

And collect his fee, no doubt. “On?”

“Things are progressing on all fronts. Your architect’s plans have been approved.”

“That is excellent news.” He should feel elated at this, but he was still preoccupied with Florence. Why was she so difficult?

And why did he want her so desperately?

“You know I am personally looking out for your interests,” Crain said when Clay fell silent. “Come hell or high water you’ll get what you want.”

“Exactly what I wish to hear. Appreciate it, Crain.”

“Though I should point out that Duncan Greene has many powerful friends in this city. Are you prepared for the storm these plans will unleash?”

Clay ground his molars together and tried not to react. Goddamn Duncan Greene. Had those powerful friends any idea of how Greene had kicked several families out of their homes just to build an office building? That man deserved all the retribution Clay had planned, and then some.

Reclining in his chair, he said, “Thank you for the warning, but I will be ready for whatever storm is unleashed.”

Jack reappeared and came inside Clay’s office. He dipped his chin, reaffirming that Florence had been seen off. Clay was both relieved and enraged at her departure. More than anything, he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. And a bottle of bourbon.

He withdrew a fat package wrapped in brown paper from his desk drawer and handed it directly to Crain. “There you go.”

Crain smiled, a slick grin of avarice and entitlement that would turn Clay’s stomach if he hadn’t seen it countless times on different men in this city. Unfortunately, success here meant playing by their rules, which meant paying out stacks of money to corrupt officials.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Madden.” The package disappeared inside Crain’s jacket pocket, then he patted the bulge in the cloth. “I’ll pass along your regards to our esteemed mayor.”

“Appreciate it, Crain. Would you like to stay and play downstairs? Jack can set you up with some chips.”

Crain rubbed his jaw, probably thinking about playing poker, his one true weakness. Clay knew this about the official but hadn’t yet used the information to his advantage. He merely filed the bit away, in case he needed it one day.

“I suppose I have a few minutes,” the chamberlain said as he rose. “Very generous of you, Madden.”