The woman steps out of her car, her impossibly long legs made even longer by the four-inch heels strapped precariously to her perfectly manicured feet. She closes the door to her Porsche with a click and then slowly, casually, strolls into the building labeled Prath Industries.
“Annabeth Prath, please,” she says to the receptionist waiting for her there, taking off her Louis Vuitton sunglasses to give the girl a dazzling smile.
The receptionist looks up at her and then does a double take. “Oh!” she says. “Oh, hi! Welcome!”
The woman continues to smile at the receptionist. She’s used to being recognized.
“Yes,” the receptionist says, nodding and checking the calendar. “Yes, I see your appointment noted here. Just a moment. Could we get you a cup of coffee? A bottle of water?”
“No, tha
