"I am losing it," The man muttered. "Why do we have to sit here like idiots when that old man is not even ready to sell? He is just wasting our time."
The woman glanced at him, but he kept going, his voice low and bitter.
"If he really wanted to sell that building, he would have taken one of the offers already. Some of them were the best he is ever going to see. He refused every one as if this was a game to him."
Alex smiled at the complaint, then let it pass. The man had already told him everything worth hearing.
He lifted the glass and finished what was left in one slow swallow. The whisky burned clean on the way down. He set the empty glass on the table, left enough notes beside it, and walked toward the far end of the room.
As he passed the couple, he felt the woman's eyes cut across him. The look was sharp, measuring, a second too long to be idle.
Did they recognize him?
