Catherine's POV
Where the hell is Anna?
My fingers drummed against the auction paddle I hadn't yet needed to raise. The Skylake District lot would be up soon-the crown jewel of today's offerings. Without Anna here to lead our consortium's bidding strategy, everything we'd worked for hung in jeopardy.
I scanned the room again, my stomach clenching tighter with each passing minute. The Simpson faction sat four rows ahead, George's silver head bent toward Jack's in quiet conversation.
"She should have been here an hour ago," I whispered to my assistant, wiping my damp palms against the silk of my dress. "Something's wrong This isn't like her at all."
Samuel Griffin leaned toward me from the adjacent seat, his expression unusually grave. His eyes were fixed on the Simpsons, hard as flint.
"Check the local news," he said, his voice barely audible above the auctioneer's call for a starting bid on a downtown commercial space.
