mail room of a ginormous investment company when she had
a degree in accounting.
Everyone has to start somewhere.
Good token advice, when it felt like everything was ending,
not beginning.
Coralyn finally found a parking spot and walked quickly
towards the towering glass and steel monolith that was
Giana’s. It was intimidating, as far as structures went. Of
course, she had to stop and get a visitor’s pass from security in
the lobby. The elevator had thirty-seven floor choices. She was
going right to the top. Apparently, Giana Thompson liked a
good view, and the top floor would boast one of the best. She
probably had a sprawling office that was larger than ten of
Coralyn’s current apartments put together. It probably had
modern, expensive furniture, cold colors, adjustable lighting,
huge windows, and all sorts of cutting-edge artwork and other
décor. Tasteful, not boastful, but expensive all the same.
Coralyn shoved back the surge of doubt as the elevator rose.
When it opened to a large reception area with tiled floors and
stark white walls, she slammed her hands in her pockets so the
trembling wouldn’t be visible. She even managed to keep her
face impassive as she stared down the haughty young
receptionist who had been so rude on the phone the day
before. The woman looked like a model. She was perfect in
every way.
“I have an appointment with Ms. Thompson at two,”
Coralyn choked out. She’d checked her phone in the elevator.
She was twenty minutes early.
“Name?” Jocelyn—her name was on a silver plate on the
edge of the ornate desk—sniffed without looking up.