They ignored the guests, the weeping bride, the gray-faced groom, and made straight for me.

“Madam Director.” The man at the front — Alistair, my chief of staff — stopped a step away and held out the glowing screen of his tablet, his eyes on me and only me.

“Forgive the intrusion.

We have an escalation that can’t wait.”

“Director?” my father said faintly.

“Director of what?”

Alistair did not so much as glance at him.

“The European Central Bank released its revised inflation figures three hours early.