He hadn’t called to say he was coming or asked for access from security. He wasn’t even wearing a standard security pass. She’d expected a phone call or some kind of communication telling her to come down to meet him in the street or parking lot, having him saunter into her office full of propriety was definitely better than that. Impressed by his means, she smiled, pleased that he was able to access her even in this secure space. “Can I help you, sir?” she asked. “How did you get in here?” He closed the office door and came over to her desk. Moving around the furniture, he pulled her chair out, away from her workspace, and sat on her desk right in front of her. He stroked her tamed hair. “Someone put my fingerprint in the system,” he said. Here he was, alert and active, she’d never felt joy so potent. It was like a liberation for all of them, they were a team, figuring out this mess, adhering to priority one.
