“Mr. Davis, this is Eleanor Brooks.”
“I’d like to meet with you. It concerns your financial situation.”
Mark frowned. “Excuse me—who are you? How do you know about that?”
“I know quite a lot,” she interrupted gently. “Meet me at Brooks Bistro at 7 p.m. It’s important.”
The call ended before Mark could object. Confused but intrigued, he headed to the upscale café. By the time he arrived, the rain had intensified, and his jacket barely kept him dry.
Inside, he was greeted by warm lighting and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Sitting at a corner table was Eleanor Brooks—an imposing woman with impeccably styled silver hair, dressed in a tailored suit that radiated wealth. She gestured for Mark to sit.
Her tone was calm but commanding. Mark hesitated before taking the seat across from her.
“Mrs. Brooks, what is this about?” he asked, getting straight to the point.
