A Negroni, late ledger, and Rachmaninoff

Tonight a single Negroni, stirred corner-of-my-office style, while Rachmaninoff fills the room. The nine‑person team's quarterly deck sits open on my desk; decisions drafted at seven taste like orange peel and certainty.

Contracts feel the same whether they're numbered in francs or signed after dinner — clear clauses, neat margins, no surprises. If you understand cadence, competence and consent as well as I do, conversation will be economical and interesting; otherwise, save me the applause.