“Busy this morning, isn’t it?” Gabe said easily.

“Christmas is only a few weeks away, always a hectic time,” Lou agreed.

“The more people around, the better it is for me,” Gabe said as a twenty-cent went flying into his cup on the ground. “Thank you,” he called to the lady who’d barely paused to drop the coin. From her body language one would almost think it had fallen through a hole in her pocket rather than being an intended gift. He looked up at Lou with big eyes and an even bigger grin. “See? Coffee’s on me tomorrow.” He chuckled.

Lou tried to lean over as inconspicuously as possible to steal a look at the contents of the cup. The twenty-cent piece sat alone at the bottom.

“Oh, don’t worry. I empty it now and then. Don’t want people thinking I’m doing too well for myself.” He laughed. “You know how it is.”

Lou agreed, but at the same time he didn’t.

“Can’t have people knowing I own the penthouse right across the water,” Gabe added, nodding across the river.

Lou turned around and gazed across the river Liffey at Dublin quay’s newest skyscraper. With its mirrored glass it was almost as if the building was the Looking Glass of Dublin city center. From the re-created Viking longship that was moored along the quays to the many cranes and new corporate and commercial buildings that framed the Liffey to the stormy, cloud-filled sky that surrounded the higher floors, the building captured it all and reflected it back to the city like a giant plasma screen. At night the building was illuminated in blue and was the talk of the town, or at least it had been in the months following its launch. The next best thing never lasted for too long, as he knew well.

“I was only joking about owning the penthouse, you know,” Gabe said, seeming concerned that his humor was a little off today.

“You like that building?” Lou asked, still staring at it in a trance.

“That’s one of the main reasons I sit here. That, and because it’s busy right along here, of course. A view alone won’t buy me my dinner.”

“We built that,” Lou said, finally turning back around to face his new acquaintance.

“Really?” Gabe took him in a bit more. Mid to late thirties, dapper suit, his face cleanly shaven, smooth as a baby’s behind, his dark groomed hair with even speckles of gray throughout, as though someone had taken a saltshaker to it. Lou reminded Gabe of an old-style movie star, emanating suaveness and sophistication, all packaged in a full-length black cashmere coat.

“I bet it bought you dinner.” Gabe laughed, feeling a slight twinge of jealousy at that moment, which bothered him, since he hadn’t known any amount of jealousy until now. Since meeting Lou he’d learned two things that were of no help, and there he was, all of a sudden cold and envious, when previously he had been warm and content. Bearing that in mind, and despite always being happy with his own company, he foresaw that as soon as he and this gentleman were to part ways, he would experience a loneliness he had never been previously aware of. He would then be envious, cold, and lonely. The perfect ingredients for a nice homemade bitter pie.

In fact, the building had bought Lou more than dinner. It had gotten the company a few awards, and, for him personally, a house in Howth and an upgrade from his present Porsche to the new model—the latter arriving right after Christmas, to be precise, but Lou knew not to announce that to the man sitting on the freezing cold pavement, swaddled in a flea-infested blanket. Instead, Lou smiled politely and flashed his porcelain veneers, as usual doing two things at once. Thinking one thing and saying another.

“Well, I’d better get to work. I just work—”

“Next door, I know. I recognize the shoes.” Gabe smiled. “Though you didn’t wear those yesterday. Tan leather, if I’m correct.”

Lou’s neatly tweezed eyebrows went up a notch. Like a pebble dropped in a pool, they caused a series of ripples to rise on his as-yet-un-Botoxed forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker.” Gabe allowed one hand to unwrap itself from the hot cup so he could hold it up in defense. “If anything, you people keep turning up at my place.”

“Incredible.” Lou laughed, self-consciously looking down at his shoes. “I’ve never noticed you here before,” he thought aloud.

“All day, every day,” Gabe said, with false perkiness in his voice.

“Sorry…” Lou shook his head. “I’m always running around the place, on the phone with someone or late for someone else. Always two places to be at the same time, my wife says. Sometimes I wish I could be cloned, I get so busy.” He laughed again.

Gabe gave him a curious smile, then nodded toward Lou’s feet. “Almost don’t recognize them standing still. No fire inside today?”

Lou laughed once more. “Always a fire inside there, believe you me.” He made a swift movement with his arm, and, like the unveiling of a masterpiece, his coat sleeve slipped up just far enough to reveal his gold Rolex. “I’m always the first director into the office, so there’s no great rush.” He observed the time with great concentration, and in his head he was already leading his first meeting of the day.

“You’re not the first in this morning,” Gabe said.

“What?” The meeting in Lou’s head was interrupted, and he was back on the street again, outside his office, the cold Atlantic wind whipping at their faces.

Gabe scrunched his eyes shut tight. “Brown loafers. I’ve seen you walk in with him a few times. He’s in already.”

“Brown loafers?” Lou laughed, first confused, next impressed, and then quickly concerned as to who had made it to the office before him.

“You know him—a pretentious walk. The little suede tassels kick with every step, like a mini cancan. It’s like he throws them up there purposely. They’ve got soft soles, but they’re heavy on the ground. Small wide feet, and he walks on the outsides. Soles are always worn away on the outside.”

Lou’s brow furrowed in concentration.

“On Saturdays he wears shoes like he’s just stepped off a yacht.”

“Alfred!” Lou said, recognizing the description. “That’s because he probably has just stepped off his ya—” But then he stopped himself. “He’s in already?”

“About a half hour ago. In a kind of a rush, by the looks of it, accompanied by another pair of black slip-ons.”

“Black slip-ons?”

“Black shoes. Male shoes. A little shine but no design. Simple and to the point. Can’t say much else about them apart from the fact they move slower than the other shoes.”

“You’re very observant.” Lou examined him, wondering who this man had been in his previous life, before landing here on the street. At the same time, his mind was on overdrive, trying to figure out who these people were. Alfred showing up to work so early had him nervous, an emotion that was rare for Lou.

Recently, a colleague of theirs—Cliff—had suffered a nervous breakdown, and this had left them excited—yes, excited—about the opening up of a new position. Providing Cliff didn’t get better, which Lou secretly hoped for, major shifts were about to take place in the company, and any unusual behavior by Alfred was questionable. In fact, for Lou, any of Alfred’s behavior at any stage was questionable.

Gabe winked. “Don’t happen to need an observant person in there for anything, do you?”

Lou parted his gloved hands. “Sorry.”

“No problem, you know where I am if you need me. I’m the fella in the Doc Martens.” He lifted his blanket to reveal his high black boots.

“I wonder why they’re in so early.” Lou looked at Gabe as though he could provide the answer.

“Can’t help you out there, I’m afraid, but they had lunch last week. Or at least they left the building at what’s considered the average joe’s lunchtime, and then came back together when that time was over. What they did in between is just a matter of clever guesswork.” He chuckled.