Diane Okafor's office didn't look like the office of a person with a lot of money.Adam noticed when he entered her office, the day after the mixer.Rather, it looked like the owner was competent and tired of luxury. No flashy awards, ornate chandelier, or marble ceiling, no skyline view wasted on decoration — just files, precedent books, and a desk angled so she could watch your face while you talked instead of the other way around."I read up on Havenridge," she said, without preamble, sliding a folder across the desk, “Titan, and obviously, the Lacoste situation, since half the city's still talking about it."She studied him. "You made some good decisions but frankly, most of them only worked because whoever dealt with your cleanup underestimated you. The next time wouldn't be that easy to escape from.""Thank you for the advice, I guess.” Adam replied, “but I'm guessing you didn't give me your card so I could get advice.”"I'm giving you a job offer, if you want to think of it th
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