“The Room was on the fortieth floor, guarded by two thick oak doors. No Formica here, no commercial carpeting or stainless steel. The conference table was twenty feet long and made of page-cut walnut; the chairs were walnut and bronze and plush crimson cushions; the lighting was subtle and recessed. The floor was oak parquet, accented with Quashqa’i rugs. An alcove at one side of the room contained a refrigerator stocked with soft drinks and sparkling water. A small bar was tucked discre...etly away under a countertop, and a coffeemaker kept fresh three flavors of hot coffee, as well as hot water for anyone who wanted to brew tea. A Limoges-style sugar bowl and creamer waited next to an array of delicate cups and small serving plates. On the countertop itself was a tray of sandwiches cut into equilateral triangles, cookies, and a freshly opened box of Godiva chocolates. Constance Rondeau probed the box of chocolates, her sharp nose moving up and down like a bird going after a worm.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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