Imani could have ended the performance with a single telephone call. Julian Reed, her chief of staff, was waiting two blocks away with a copy of the acquisition closing documents. Helena Marsh, Sterling Vane's board chair, would have come downstairs personally if Imani had asked. An armed security detail was not waiting outside, and there was no fleet of black cars ready to announce her arrival; she had specifically refused that sort of theater. But she did have the authority to demand access, and she chose not to use it yet because she wanted an answer to a different question: how did this company behave when it believed nobody consequential was watching?
At nine-twenty-four, Preston came downstairs again and found her still sitting in the same place. "You're persistent," he observed. "You've kept me here more than half an hour," Imani said, glancing toward the clock. "How much longer do you intend to keep me waiting?"
Preston interpreted the question as a complaint instead of a forecast. "That depends," he answered. "How long does it take you to get the hint?"
Imani said nothing. Preston's face changed at the absence of a reaction, the irritation of a man who expected fear or pleading and had received neither. He crossed to the desk, picked up the telephone, and asked security to remove a woman who was refusing to leave the lobby. He did not mention that she had a calendar appointment, that she had been sitting quietly, or that she had done nothing to disturb the business of the building.
"Mr. Hale," Maya said, stepping forward, "she has an appointment. I checked."
Preston turned. "Maya, go back to your station." "But you can verify it," she insisted. "It's in the system."
Kelsey shook her head at Maya as if warning her to stop making a mistake. Sienna held her phone up again, this time recording openly. "This is definitely going on my story," she whispered, thinking the remark too quiet for Imani to hear. Across the lobby, a security guard began walking toward the chair with the careful expression of someone who disliked being told to remove a peaceful guest.
"People like you use the service entrance," Preston said before the guard arrived. "That's what it's there for." Sienna laughed and said, "Finally, somebody said it." The guard stopped just outside the circle of conversation, looking between Imani and the appointment calendar on Kelsey's monitor.
The clock reached nine-thirty-eight. Imani had been in the building forty-five minutes, including the seven minutes before her scheduled meeting. She rose from the chair, set the untouched remainder of her water on the table, and closed her notebook. "No, Mr. Hale," she said when Preston asked whether she was finally leaving. "Forty-five minutes is how long it took you to show me everything I came to see."
For a moment he appeared uncertain whether she was insulting him. Then he laughed again, louder than before, reassuring himself with the sound. "Goodbye, sweetheart."
Imani turned to Maya. "Thank you for the water," she said. "And for treating me like a guest. If you ever need anything, call the number on my card."