The third-floor waiting area of Pittsburgh City Hall.
Peter Hoffman sat on the slightly stiff sofa, repeatedly rubbing his hands on his knees.
His palms were slick with cold sweat. He wore a dark gray suit he'd bought specifically for this meeting, but the knot of his tie was slightly crooked. It made him look less like the owner of a construction company and more like an intern waiting for an interview.
Hoffman Construction. It was a name he had scraped and clawed for twenty years in Pittsburgh to build.
To the outside world, he was a success story.
But under the shadow of a behemoth like Morganfield Industrial Group, he knew he was just an ant that could be crushed at any moment.
For the past five years, he had been hovering on the fringes of major projects, only able to pick up the scraps left behind by the general contractors.
Repairing sidewalks, renovating neighborhood sewers, or reinforcing the foundation of some rich man's villa.
