Brenda studied my face, then tapped her tablet pen twice against her palm.

“Come into my office.”

She closed the heavy oak door behind us and laid the sales reports on her desk.

“Did any paper copies of my November travel itinerary get mailed to Maple Street?” I asked.

“No,” Brenda said.

“Everything goes straight to your encrypted work email.

I printed a single hard copy for your leather binder on Tuesday.”

“Has anyone called the admin desk asking about my schedule?”