New York, New York
What have we gotten into this time? Fitz thought, walking briskly up Park Avenue, late for her meeting with Gary Jablonski, a colleague at the Securities and Exchange Commission. There was too much on her mind.
New York canyons towered over her, casting long late-afternoon shadows, as her head swirled with what her brother Tommy had let slip over the weekend. Even after all her decades of involvement in her family’s financial dealings, apparently there were significant trusts in their portfolio she’d known nothing about. Her father had never seen fit to tell her.
She walked briskly past the garbage bags on the curb, the smells so familiar she only noticed the narrowed sidewalk when she had to dodge oncoming pedestrians. At 56th she turned east, heading for Lex. Fitz was a compact 5’4”, but what she lacked in height she made up for in rapidity. Her tailored grey trousers and jacket with Gucci loafers were a far cry from her 1980s college wardrobe, but they were still made to move. Her determined strides wove in, out, and past the pedestrians cluttering the sidewalk.