“Excuse me.” I caught his arm and pressed a hundred-dollar bill into his palm.

“I’m with the Steadwell anniversary.

I left my investor booklet on table four — can you grab me a spare from the reception desk?” He glanced at the money, nodded, and vanished through the swinging doors.

Two minutes later he came back with a glossy, heavy-stock booklet.

I stepped into the quiet of the service corridor, my heart hammering.

Chapter 12 — Appendix B