“I helped clear the first bus route through Fairfax County when you were still in college, Paige,” I said.
“The past is a very small part of a growing business,” Paige said, tapping the edge of her press releases against the glass counter. “We have to think about the future.”
She turned her back to me, her red skirt swaying as she walked toward the copy room.
I stood alone in the lobby, the damp wind from the street catching the heavy glass doors behind me.
The receptionist, a young woman named Brenda who had only been with us for three months, avoided my eyes.
She kept her head down, typing rapidly on her keyboard as if she were invisible.
“Brenda,” I said, stepping closer to the desk. “Is Adrian’s afternoon schedule completely full?”
“He has the county commissioners coming in at four, Mrs. Lane,” she said, her voice tiny. “And then Mr. Crane is returning.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I sat down on the leather sofa in the waiting area, watching the rain start to streak the high glass windows of the lobby.
Ten minutes later, the double doors of the inner office opened.
