Page 6 of A First Sight

“Yes, that’s still on the calendar,” he said. “But I’m here to ask a favor.”

I hid my surprise. This was out of context for Uncle Ben.

“What can I do?”

“It’s Homer Kensit. I have some papers regarding his account that need to be signed today.” Uncle Ben looked slightly embarrassed. “I forgot about them until about an hour ago. I could send a courier, but Homer is an old friend.”

“With me taking over the company, you want Homer to know he’ll continue to receive the same personal attention,” I finished Uncle Ben’s thought.

He nodded. “I would go myself, but Stellan made me promise to take it easy today.”

“Got you. I can take him the papers and then pick up lunch on my way back,” I said. “Homer is the head of marketing for the Philharmonic, if I remember correctly?”

“He is.” Uncle Ben coughed. It wasn’t a bad sound, but he needed to rest. “Anyway, Homer is at David Geffen Hall.”

After a short briefing, it was time for me to be off.

I used the company car and driver to avoid walking from the parking lot in the miserable weather.

Once inside the building, it took me a moment to get my bearings. It had been years since I’d last been here, and I usually came in the VIP entrance because of my patronage. Before I made a complete pass around the vast lobby, a lean young man came toward me in a neatly pressed uniform.

“Good morning.” He smiled widely. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Homer Kensit. I’m Drake Mac Gilleain, and I have some business with him.”

“Of course. If you just give me a moment, I’ll see if I can locate Mr. Kensit. Take a seat if you’d like.” The young man gestured to one side with chairs.

A few minutes later, Homer appeared. His ebony-colored hair had more gray in it than the last time I’d seen him, but other than that, he hadn’t changed. When he smiled, his teeth flashed white against his dark skin.

“Drake, good to see you.” He held out a hand.

“You, too.” We shook, and I took a manila envelope from inside my jacket. “Uncle Ben sent me with some papers for you to sign.”

"He usually shows up himself," Homer said with concern on his face. “Is everything all right?”

“He’s been under the weather the past few days.” I liked that he cared about Uncle Ben. “And with him retiring this year, he thought it’d be a wonderful opportunity for us to connect.”

“Hope he feels better soon, but sounds good. Let’s get somewhere more comfortable.” Homer gestured toward the way he came. “Shall we?”

I followed him through the lobby to a corridor. We stopped at the door with his name. His office was neat, organized, and quite similar to mine. After we settled on either side of the desk, I pushed the envelope across the desk to him.

“I’ll let you read through them, and if you have questions, just ask.” I folded my arms and waited, letting my attention wander around the room.

The bookshelves mainly held volumes about music or musicians, but there were a couple of surprises in there, classics likeAnna KareninaandSilas Marner. The walls had a few pictures of various orchestras.

“Everything looks good,” Homer said finally. He picked up a pen, signed at each marked place, and then returned the papers.

I quickly checked them over to ensure he had missed nothing and then returned them to the envelope.

“Ben’s always done a fine job with my accounts,” Homer said. “I’m confident that you will do the same.”

“Thank you,” I said with a smile as I got up.

“Are you in a hurry? You haven’t seen the changes we’ve made.” Homer stood. “If you have time, I’d love to show you around a bit?”

I looked at my watch. This hadn’t taken as long as I thought. My lunch order wouldn’t be ready for another hour. Even with traffic, I’d be early. “I’d like that.”

As Homer led me back down the corridor, he talked about the Philharmonics.

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