Alexander

Monday morning arrived with the kind of brightness that felt personally offensive after a long trip. I stood in the walk--in closet, running my hand along the row of suits hanging in perfect order. Navy Tom Ford, charcoal Brioni, dark gray Armani. The uniform of corporate warfare.

Behind me, I heard Olivia stirring in bed, making those soft morning sounds that had become increasingly familiar. I pulled out the navy suit and a crisp white ...