He had a dinner that evening with two people from his legal team and a property developer who wanted to discuss a joint venture. He arrived seven minutes late, which was unlike him, and spent the first course being present in the technical sense of having his body in the room.
"Lucien." The property developer — Marcus, old money and old school, the kind of man who golfed not for exercise but for the conversation — leaned across slightly. "Everything alright?"
"Fine."
"You look—" Marcus paused, choosing diplomacy "—distracted."
"I'm not." He picked up his fork. "The joint venture terms. Walk me through the revised clause four."
Marcus walked him through clause four. Lucien listened, asked two questions that demonstrated he had been paying more attention than he appeared to, and moved through the rest of dinner with the automated efficiency of someone who had spent fifteen years doing this in his sleep.
On the way home he looked at his phone.
