The Inner Office of Harold Vance
The lobby of Vance, Crandall and Associates smelled of lemon polish and ambition, the kind of building that sat on Park Avenue between forty-third and forty-fourth like a man who had learned to stand straight at the exact right moment. Harold Vance was thirty-eight years old, a senior copywriter who had spent the better part of a decade learning the art of making ordinary things sound...
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