Chapter 22: The Summit

The lobby of the Grand Seoul had a marble floor, a chandelier the size of a car and a banner that said "Pinecrest Freight Asia Summit."

Thirty people in lanyards stood around with coffee.

I stood among them in the one blazer I had brought from Seattle, with a folder under my arm.

Dojin sat at a lobby table twenty feet behind me with a cup of tea.

At ten o'clock exactly, a woman in a navy suit came toward me with her hand out.

"Ms. Renberg. I'm from human resources. We spoke on the phone."

She had tired eyes and a very steady grip.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "The vice president would like to hear it from you. Not from a form."

Behind her stood a gray-haired man in a charcoal suit, and beside him a Korean executive with a silver pen and a polite, unreadable face.

"This is our client," the vice president said. "They're deciding whether to renew the account that Mr. Gullikson was assigned to staff."

"I'd like them to hear this too, because it concerns their trust."

The revolving door turned.

Colson came through it with a laptop bag over one shoulder and a face the color of paper.

He saw the lanyards, and the chandelier, and the client, and then he saw me.

He stopped walking.

"Mr. Gullikson," the vice president said, in a voice that carried across the marble. "Thank you for coming in person."

"Sir, I can explain everything."

"Good. Put the laptop on the table."

Colson set it down.

Every coworker in the lobby had stopped talking.

"Last week you filed five days of client travel in Denver at five hundred dollars a day," the vice president said. "Where were you?"

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