Franz had been in his office since morning.
The desk was covered in documents — quarterly reports, contract amendments, approval forms that needed his signature before filming started. He'd been working through them methodically, the way he did everything, but the pile refused to shrink. Every time he finished one stack, another appeared. Finn had brought the last batch at four-thirty with an apologetic look and a reminder that the car was coming at seven.
He had two hours.
The window behind him showed the city at early evening, the sky softening from blue to gold. His jacket was draped over the back of his chair. His sleeves were rolled up. His tie was loosened. He'd been reading the same paragraph about insurance liability for three minutes without absorbing a word.
A knock on the doorframe pulled his attention.
