The lobby of Calloway Development was bustling with morning commuters shaking out their wet umbrellas. I stood near the security desk, my eyes fixed on the private elevator that led directly to the executive suite.
When the brass doors finally slid open, a woman in a pristine white designer coat stepped out into the lobby.
Savannah Brooks held her phone three inches from her face, her thumb moving rapidly across the screen as she walked. Under her arm, she carried a thick manila folder labeled Calloway Marketing Strategy.
“Excuse me, Savannah,” I said, stepping into her path before she could reach the revolving doors.
She stopped, lowering her phone slightly, her eyes scanning my simple gray coat and flat shoes with a swift, critical glance.
“Oh, hi, Claire,” she said, her voice rising in her usual high, dramatic pitch. “Are you here for the quarterly budget meeting? Ryan said you were working from home this week.”
“I came to drop off some paperwork,” I said, keeping my voice calm and choosing my words with precision. “What are those marketing plans for?”
