hedge-fund executives conferred in deep leather alcoves, and white-gloved porters moved silently across polished floors.
Rather than use my private executive lift from the penthouse to the sixtieth-floor dining room, I descended through the south tower, walked out onto the street into the crisp, biting autumn wind, then approached the revolving entrance from the public driveway.
I wanted them to watch me enter from outside. From the dirt.
As I entered through the revolving doors, the familiar warmth of the lobby washing over me, I saw them at once.
Harper