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“Sell it!” she said and finally took a sip from her glass.

I looked at her reaction and admired the determination with which she swallowed the drink she hated. She wrinkled her face at the strength of the drink.

“Who’s buying it?” she said when she regained her composure.

“Jared Shannon,” I said, and I was about to tell her the whole story when she suddenly put her glass down.

“Susan’s son?”

“Do you remember him?”

She looked away for a minute, without saying anything, and then she gave a chuckle.

“Might as well. We reap what we sow, don’t we?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she said and stood up. “I’m rather tired and I think I’ll go to bed now.”

She was on the way out of the library when she stopped and looked at me.

“You know, he sent a card with condolences and a big bouquet of flowers.”

“Who did? Jared?”

“Yes,” she said and left the library.

Mr. Goldberg was waiting for me outside Jared’s office building–as always, on his phone, checking latest developments in his small legal empire. He was wearing his body armor–a dark blue Gieves & Hawkes bespoke suit and a red silk tie by Dege & Skinner with a washed red snail design. He had a white custom-made shirt from the same shop. The fact wasn’t supposed to be known by outsiders since one of the oldest tailors on The Row kept their client list confidential. “Easy does it” was Mr. Goldberg’s motto and the snails were the reminder of it. He knew his threads well and I respected him for that even more than for his outstanding legal skills and knowledge.

I had expected his attire and wanted to match his style with a look from The Row myself with somewhat contemporary and sleek British style. I had my trusted Richard James double-breasted grey suit on with a pale blue cotton shirt. No tie. My feet were guarded by a pair of chukka boots in suede from the same shop. I was ready to sign the deal and start the project.

The last time we had seen each other had been at the funeral, and, outside the family, he was the first person I notified of my intention to sell the house. I didn’t think he was happy about that, but he was a professional and I was the owner and his client. The client was always right.