A pitcher of ice water and four glasses sat in the center.

Eleanor and I took the two seats nearest the glass door.

Brenda stood at the head of the table holding a manila folder against her chest.

At exactly ten o’clock, Mark walked in.

He wore a tailored charcoal wool suit and a crisp white shirt, with a red silk tie knotted perfectly at his collar.

He carried a slim leather portfolio under one arm.

His leather shoes clicked loudly on the hard floor before he stepped onto the carpet.