I shoved myself through the front door of Bloomberg Empire with purpose but my sneakers slide through the slippery floor and I almost plunge across the foyer.
Straightening up, I looked around, everything was a haze of glass and steel and marble. Beautiful in a way, but it was also the kind of space designed to make you feel shabby and small.
I kept catching glimpses of myself in too many gleaming surfaces. Wildly out of place in my scruffy jeans and a T-shirt.
A voice called after me, “Can I help you?”
Without turning I called back, “No,” as I jumped into the lift and hit the button. He would be right at the top because the top was the best.
The elevator shot silently skyward, floor after floor after floor rushing past in streaks of silver, burning at the corners of my eyes like I
