[Hart Financial]
Patricia marched straight into the glass-and-steel lobby like she owned the place.
Her heels clicked with purpose, her jaw was set and her phone was clenched in her hand like a weapon.
The receptionist looked up with a polite smile that wavered almost immediately.
"Good morning. May I help you?"
"Yes," Patricia said brightly, too brightly. "I am here to see Lucas Hart."
The receptionist blinked. "Do you have an appointment?"
Patricia smiled but it didn't reach her eyes.
"No but you might want to tell him that Patricia Wu is downstairs anyway."
"I am sorry, I can't just—"
Patricia leaned in slightly, lowering her voice—not loud, not dramatic but controlled.
"Then tell him this," she said evenly. "Tell him his mother sent me a 'wellness starter kit' and a six-month Pilates subscription to my home address."
She paused, letting that sink in.
