Before Daniel could give a relieved smile, a woman walked quickly up to the display tables.

Vanessa wore her tailored gray coat over a dark, formal dress.

She smoothed her immaculate hair behind her ear, but the motion lacked its usual sharp precision.

Her eyes darted nervously between the business card in Claire’s hand and her husband’s face.

“The committee is asking for you in the director’s suite, Daniel,” Vanessa said.

She clipped her consonants sharply, cutting through the noise of the lobby.

She didn’t look directly at Claire.