Page 6 of Mario
My bank account is telling me to stay put.
Which is probably how a lot of bad decisions are made.
The elevator climbs higher.
Beside me, Benjamin clears his throat once. Not nervous exactly, but not comfortable either.
Ainsley watches the numbers above the doors like she’s memorizing the floor count.
No one speaks.
That might be for the best.
If one of them asks me whether I’m sure about this, I’ll have to lie.
We need this client. The fact of the matter is that, without Conti Enterprises, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep the doors open.
I take the moment to center myself and focus on what’s coming.
You can do this, Victoria. This is a client like any other.
Except I need this one for my company to survive.
No, don’t focus on that. You’ve done this a million times. You’ve got this.
The elevator slows.
My fingers tighten around the edge of my portfolio before I make them relax.
Thirty-second floor.
The doors open onto a quiet space.
There are no cubicles or ringing phones, no assistant rushing by with coffee and panic in her eyes. Just a wide corridor with art on the walls, offices behind frosted glass, and windows showing Chicago spread out beneath a pale afternoon sky.
The city looks almost orderly from this high up.
That is the lie of distance.
Our escort leads us down the hall, then stops outside a set of double doors. “Mr. Conti will see you now.”
There is something old-fashioned about the phrasing.
I almost expect him to open the door to a throne room.
Instead, it is a simple conference room.
A very expensive conference room, but still a conference room.
Long table. Leather chairs. Glass wall overlooking the city. A credenza with coffee, water, and cut fruit no one has touched. A screen at the far end of the room already displays the agenda I sent over yesterday.
And two men stand near the windows.
I know which one is Mario Conti before either introduces himself.
There are men who are handsome because the angles of their face line up just right. They have a good jaw, good hair, good tailoring, or enough money to make up for a lack of it.
Mario Conti is not that.
