The first floor was a long marble foyer, cold and sterile despite its beauty. Wealth was apparent in every surface, and the people who stood behind the long rosewood counter all looked as if they had been created at a factory that churned out healthy, fit, white toothed clones. Jenna always felt an almost irresistible urge to check the mirrored walls to see if she looked as impeccable as they did. She always managed to stop herself from doing that. When she had been in college, slaving away at her business degree, a professor had told her that it was easy to tell who did not belong in big business, just look for the people who had to stop every few moments to make sure that they looked the part. Jenna did look the part, and she knew that very few people in the foyer or crowding the elevators would have ever guessed at her humble beginnings. The elevator dinged and rose smoothly past the lower floors where harried clerks and accountants scrambled to make sense of the information being thrown at them hourly.
