Chapter Seven
Helen glanced nervously at the one red light on her desk phone. She got quickly to her feet and almost ran across the capacious room to the heavy grey steel filing cabinet behind Mimi’s desk.
Despite the dauntingly icy décor mandated by the company’s Board in the rest of the space, York had chosen the traditional ambience of his old office in the White House’s West Wing. Even the assistants’ workstations in his dark panelled antechamber were superb 18th century mahogany partners’ desks. The rows of wooden cupboards and filing cabinets scattered along the walls were custom crafted to match the desks exactly. Early Victorian, bronze leaf-carved chandeliers with milk glass globes were suspended from satin covered chains above each desk and York’s conference table. Simple lengt
