It was really the only way to be. So, swaddled up in Armani, I rode the elevator up to the twenty-fifth floor but could get no further than the double glass doors. A woman I had never met before leaned out ten minutes later. “Hi.” She smiled wide, looking me over with an appraising eye. “You must be Marcus Roth.” I cleared my throat. “How do you know?” “My boss said that if a tall, handsome man should get to the front doors and not come in, but just pace outside, I should call her right away. I’m thinking it’s you.” It was time to breathe, so I tried. “It’s me. Who are you?” “Suzie, Suzie Jones.” “Nice to meet you, Suzie Jones.” I smiled, offering her my hand. She took it, squeezed it, and beamed up at me. “I called Mrs. Kessler. She’s coming.” I straightened my tie first, then my cuffs. “She said handsome, not gorgeous?” “She should have said ‘hot’, Mr.
