The lobby of the Sterling Towers was quiet that late morning, the polished marble floors gleaming beneath the warm flood of sunlight streaming in from the wide glass doors. Behind the reception desk, two attendants managed the flow of deliveries, guest requests, and phone calls with their usual calm efficiency.
One of them, a young woman named Eliza, had just finished checking in a florist's delivery when a tall, sharply dressed woman strode across the lobby, her heels clicking decisively on the stone. A middle-aged woman with her perfect hair, immaculate clothes approached the desk and offered a thin smile. "Hello. I'm here to see Selena Blake."
Eliza blinked politely, hands still poised over her keyboard. "May I have your name, ma'am?"
"Jennette Miller," she replied smoothly. "I'm a friend of Selena's. I'd like to go up."
