The shared office was quiet save for the faint tapping of keyboards and the soft hum of the heater working against the winter chill. Christmas decorations had begun to appear in the halls of the Rowley house—garlands draped over banisters, wreaths on doors, and the notice of the yet to arrive giant Christmas tree for the living room Mark had told me about.
I flipped through the office calendar, pausing when I saw an event marked for the coming week. My stomach twisted at the sight of it: December 14th – Investor Cocktail Evening.
"Mark?" I asked hesitantly, glancing over at his desk.
He didn't look up right away, engrossed in his laptop. "Hmm?"
"This event," I said, pointing at the date on calendar. "Investor Cocktail Evening? What is it?"
