I climbed out of the Uber and looked up at the condo building. It was so many orders of magnitude nicer than the dirty building I lived in that I felt like Cinderella coming to the ball. “Hello miss,” said the doorman as I walked up. “Hi, I’m here to see Stephen Devereux?” “You must be Liberty, he let us know you were coming. Please, go right in and take the third elevator to the penthouse.” Jeez, Stephen wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to come here and enjoy his money. I’d expected the entrance foyer of the building to be large and overwhelming, but instead it was cozy and intimate. Marble floors, warm oak trim, and modern artwork contributed to a comforting welcome—tastefully applied and expensive but not overdone. The third elevator was off to the side and it had no button, only a magnetic card reader. It was next to a security desk attended by a young man in a crisp uniform. “Hi. I’m Liberty, to see Stephen Devereux. The doorman said to take the third elevator?”
