REMI'S POV
The contract arrived by courier at 9:04 Tuesday morning, in a thick cream envelope with a Wolfe Enterprises return address and my name written in someone's very neat administrative handwriting.
I'd been expecting it. Dax had said Tuesday in the car outside my building. His lawyer would have drafted it Sunday evening, had it reviewed Monday morning, sent it Tuesday. That was how he operated — everything precise, everything when he said it would be, no wasted motion between decision and execution.
I set it on my kitchen counter and looked at it for a while.
The studio apartment was very quiet. Monday I'd called in sick — not a lie, exactly; I'd woken with my face pressed against the bathroom tile and spent an hour there, and the nausea had receded only around noon to something
