And now, the security guard at reception had probably sent him a text message saying that a woman in military uniform was asking for him. Graham knew his house of cards was about to collapse.
The next morning, I wasn’t wearing a suit. I was in full ceremonial uniform. Every ribbon was perfectly aligned. Every brass button shone like a mirror.
I didn’t take an Uber. I entered the Whitlock Freight & Supply lobby at precisely 9:00 AM.
The gray-haired security guard from the day before paled as soon as he saw me heading towards the tourniquets. « Madam… well, Colonel… »
« Get out of the way, fist, » I said in a voice imbued with the calm and absolute authority of a senior officer.
He didn’t dare challenge me.
I took the executive elevator directly to the top floor. When the doors opened, the receptionist stood up, stunned, but I completely ignored her and walked purposefully towards the double mahogany doors of the CEO’s office, in the carpeted corridor.
I opened them without knocking.
Graham stood by the window, a trembling cup of coffee in his hand. Seated on the leather sofa, Celeste wore a fitted navy dress. Around her neck, glittering in the morning light, shone my silver star pendant.
