“Mr. Calloway, good morning. They’re ready for you upstairs.” She walked him to the corridor herself. When she came back she passed Elias without looking at him and sat back down at her desk. Elias turned his hat slowly in his hands and looked at the door at the end of the corridor. He wondered how long when he arrives was going to be.
About twenty minutes later the front doors slid open and a man walked in who changed the temperature of the room without appearing to try. He was somewhere in his fifties, broad shouldered, in a charcoal suit that fit the way expensive suits fit — like it had been made with him specifically in mind.