Mac jerked his attention back to the present and wheeled around. He had been staring out the wall of windows behind his desk at the sleek office buildings that made up Enterprise Drive and hadn’t heard a word Jake said. Mac frowned and tried to recall the thread of the conversation. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” “If you have other things on your mind, we can discuss this issue later,” Jake offered. He rose from his chair on the other side of Mac’s desk. Mac shook his head briefly. “No, no. Stay. We need to get this ironed out. I don’t want to begin the work week with the Chenille Street issue hanging over my head.” He kicked his abandoned chair from his desk, and sank into it. Jake settled back into his chair. “I was just saying that the residents on Chenille Street are still pursuing landmark status for that house. They’ll never get it, of course. The fact that some obscure historical character stayed there when he passed through Huntsville umpity-ump years ago won’t be sufficient.
