By a random twist of fate, my crimson shirt perfectly matched James's tie. "Thank you."
We headed out to the elevators and I was briefly startled when the car went up instead of down. When we reached the top floor, the waiting area we stepped into was considerably larger and more ornate than the one on the twentieth.
Hanging baskets of ferns and lilies fragranced the air and a smoky glass security entrance was sandblasted with Cross Industries in a bold, masculine font.
We were buzzed in and then asked to wait a moment. Both of us declined an offer of water or coffee, and less than five minutes after we arrived, we were directed to a closed conference room.
James looked at me with twinkling eyes as the receptionist reached for the door handle. "Ready?"
I smiled. "Ready."
****
