Madison had learned to recognize that particular movement. It was the posture of a person required to solve a problem without being given the authority or information needed to solve it. Sarah glanced toward the bench and offered a small apologetic smile. Madison returned it, making clear that the receptionist's effort had been noticed. It was the sort of exchange that should not have required courage from either person.
At nine fifty-three, the elevator opened and Richard Brown stepped into the lobby. Brown was head of sales, a man whose annual revenue presentations Madison had reviewed in detail and whose staff retention numbers she had found troubling. He wore a dark suit cut tightly across the shoulders and carried a large takeaway coffee. An earbud remained in one ear while he laughed into a conversation about a yacht and a weekend trip to the Hamptons.
He noticed Madison midway across the floor. His smile thinned, and his eyes passed over her coat, her sensible shoes, and the portfolio on her knees. He removed the earbud with two fingers, as though the interruption itself were an insult. "Excuse me," he said. "The delivery entrance is around the back. You're in the wrong part of the building."
"I'm waiting for a meeting," Madison replied.
"A meeting?" Richard looked toward Sarah, not bothering to ask whom Madison was meeting. "Sarah, can you help this woman find the service elevator? We can't have people wandering through the executive lobby whenever they feel like it."
Sarah stood halfway out of her chair. "Mr. Brown, Ms. Parker has an appointment, and I'm trying to verify--"
"Then verify it," Richard interrupted. "That's what reception is for. I shouldn't have to explain it." He turned away before she could finish and walked toward the bank of elevators again, already returning his attention to the phone call. Madison noticed that he had not looked at the framed visitor policy beside the desk, where it stated clearly that guests awaiting verification should be offered a seat and assistance.
She opened her notebook and wrote the time, his full name, and his exact words. She did not put a conclusion beside them. An effective record distinguished what had been observed from what the observer suspected. Beside the entry she noted that Sarah had attempted to correct him and been cut off.
At ten oh two, Bradley Wilson entered the lobby alongside Katherine Anderson. Wilson was chief operating officer, a broad-shouldered man whose performance reviews emphasized efficiency and discipline. Katherine was chief financial officer, stylish in a pale green jacket and carrying a bottle of pressed juice. Their conversation concerned a golf outing with a client whose account was large enough that both of them seemed eager to claim responsibility for it.
Wilson saw Madison first. He stopped beside a column, tilted his head, and said, "Who let her sit in the executive lobby?" He did not lower his voice. "Does this look like a bus station to you?"
Katherine gave Madison a quick glance and smirked. "Maybe somebody wandered in off the street. It happens when people see the marble and think the lobby is a public waiting room."