She looks at spreadsheets.
Clouds moved out of the way on this fine morn. Sunshine, like truth being told, illuminated the city of Wilmington, Delaware. Fielder Jakes, teak-colored, sprayed sheen on his curly Afro. He straightened his tie and brushed off his shoulders. His blue business suit spoke of power, achievement, and winning. His red power tie said, “I’ve got this” before he could even open his mouth. With the matching cufflinks in place to make his outfit complete, he headed down from his loft apartment space and entered the garage level. There he saw her. A cocaine white dream with over a thousand horses, sheltered from the recent August Summer rain. The vehicle was a romantic art masterpiece. Its shimmering hardtop belied the fact that it could be converted to allow the wind into the two seater. The quadruple exhaust pipes gleamed like silverware. The body sloped and curved and made jarring lines and muscle like cuts in the frame. All Jakes had to do now was to offer some credits.