Chapter 7 Chapter Seven

• The private dining room on the thirty-second floor smelled of roasted rosemary and expensive paper.
• Alex arrived twelve minutes early and took the seat that faced the door. The table had been set for six. Only four would attend. He had adjusted the guest list that morning with a single call. Continuity, he had called it when the events company confirmed. The same coordinator who had handled the gala would oversee the smaller corporate dinner. No further explanation required.
• A low arrangement of white blooms sat in the center of the table. The lighting had been lowered to the exact level he preferred for evening meetings. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass the city moved in its usual indifferent patterns. He checked the time once and then left the phone face down.