The young man admitted without an appointment.
Brittany telling him to sit.
Elaine’s suggestion that his conduct might affect financing.
Walter did not dramatize.
He did not call anyone names.
He did not say the bank was corrupt.
He gave times.
Donovan listened.
When Walter finished, the regional director looked toward Elaine.
“Was his appointment at ten?”
Elaine hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did you know he had checked in?”
“Yes.”
“Did you meet with him?”
“I was managing multiple priorities.”
“Did you speak with him before noon?”
“Briefly.”
“When?”
“In the lobby.”
“After how long?”
Elaine’s jaw tightened.
“I don’t know exactly.”
Walter said:
“Eleven thirty-four.”
Donovan looked at him.
“You kept track?”
“After the first hour.”
Donovan nodded.
Then turned to Brittany.
“Pull the appointment record and check-in time.”
Brittany looked toward Elaine.
Donovan noticed.
“Brittany.”
“Yes, sir.”
She left.
Donovan looked at Walter.
“Would you come with me?”
Walter glanced toward Elaine.
“Where?”
“Conference room.”
“If this is an apology meeting, I’m not interested.”
Donovan nodded.
“Fair.”
“Then what?”
“First, an answer.”
Walter picked up his briefcase.
“Good.”
The conference room overlooked part of downtown Knoxville.
Walter barely noticed.
He sat at one end of the long polished table.
Donovan sat beside rather than across from him.
That mattered more than Walter expected.
“I’m sorry,” Donovan said.
Walter shook his head.
“I told you.”
“I know. You’re not looking for an apology.”
“No.”
“I’m giving one anyway because one is owed.”
Walter said nothing.
Donovan continued.
“But I’m not asking you to accept it as the answer.”
“Good.”
“What answer do you want?”
Walter looked at the man.
“Why.”
“Why what?”
“Why I was sitting out there.”
Donovan was quiet.
Walter continued.
“If Elaine had an emergency, tell me.”
“If another client had something urgent, tell me.”
“If the bank messed up the schedule, tell me.”
“But if somebody looked at my shirt and my boots and decided whatever I came for could wait behind everybody who looked expensive, then tell me that too.”
Donovan folded his hands.
“I don’t know yet.”
“That’s an honest answer.”
“I can find out.”
Walter leaned back.
“I’m not asking for special treatment.”
“I understand.”
“No, I mean it.”
His voice sharpened.
“I don’t want you walking into my loan file and approving something because you recognize me from a cattlemen’s dinner.”
Donovan studied him.
Walter continued.
“If the numbers work, approve it.”
“If they don’t, tell me no.”
“But don’t make me wait two hours because somebody decided mud on a man’s boots means his time is cheap.”
Donovan nodded slowly.
“Agreed.”
There was a knock.
Brittany entered carrying a printed sheet.
She looked nervous.
“Mr. Shaw.”
“Thank you.”