The young woman took the envelope and typed my name into her computer with quick, practiced keystrokes.

“Is Sierra Vaughn available to take the internal copy directly?” I asked, keeping my voice mild and unhurried.

The receptionist looked up from her monitor, her expression warm and professional.

“Ms.

Vaughn is in executive meetings all afternoon.”

“I thought she wasn’t with the firm anymore,” I said.

“Oh, no,” the receptionist said, smiling kindly as she stuck a blue routing label on my envelope.

“Ms.