Chapter 8: Yes, I Am

Davenport House's boardroom was a long glass table on the thirtieth floor.

Twelve people in suits turned to look at me when I walked in.

I wore black trousers, a cream sweater and no jewelry.

Under the sweater I was still tender from last night, and every time I sat down I felt it.

Leighton sat at the head of the table with Emmett at his shoulder.

"Good morning," he said. "This is Margo Ellsworth. She's drawing Davenport Crown."

"Good morning," I said, and I noticed that he looked at the table when he said it, not at anyone's face.

Emmett leaned down and murmured something in his ear.

Leighton nodded and said, "Thank you for coming, sir."

The man at the end of the table said, "Of course," and I watched Leighton's gaze go to the man's cufflinks, not his eyes.

I filed it away.

I had a lot of things filed away by then, and I did not look at any of them yet.

I pinned my first sheets to the wall and gave my presentation.

Davenport Crown was a tower with a ring of glass at the top that caught the sun on the water.