She didn't make an appointment this time either.
But this time Ray was expecting her. She could tell from the moment his assistant waved her through without hesitation—the specific efficiency of someone who had been told to let her pass. He'd known she was coming. Had probably known since before she'd decided to come, which meant he'd been sitting behind that desk with the patience of a man waiting for something he'd already arranged.
She pushed open the door.
He was at his desk. Jacket on, as always. A folder to his left, papers to his right, the performance of a man interrupted mid-work. He looked up when she entered and the expression on his face was the one she'd come to know most specifically—the one that meant he was pleased and had decided not to hide it.
"Aurora," he said. "Twice in one week."
She crossed the room. Stopped at the edge of his desk. Didn't sit.
"The interview," she said.
He leaned back. "What about it?"
