He answered on the second ring.
“Morning, Andrea.”
“Morning, Ben. I need you to change the access code at the private gate.”
A half-second pause. Not surprise, exactly. Processing.
“All right.”
“And replace the lock at the stone house.”
Longer pause.
“Do you want me to ask why?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t.”
“One more thing. If any vendors arrive this week, don’t let them onto the property. Any of them.”
“Understood.” His voice settled into the register he uses when something has shifted and he has taken the measure of it. “I’ll get on the gate this morning.”
I sat for a moment after ending the call.
Then I went to call each vendor.
I will not pretend these calls were easy. The caterer was professionally controlled but the financial discussion that followed was not brief. The tent company had already begun logistics planning and the conversation required patience. The florist was distressed in a personal way, having invested
