Serena Croft had a talent for showing up exactly when she wasn't wanted.
"Elena! There you are." She appeared at the elevator bank Friday morning with a bakery box and a smile so bright it bordered on aggressive. "I heard you're settling in beautifully. I just had to bring you something — least I could do for the woman who's finally shaking things up around here."
Elena accepted the box with a measured nod, cataloguing the gesture the way she catalogued everything lately: filed, not trusted. "That's kind of you, Serena."
"Oh, don't mention it." Serena's manicured hand landed lightly on Elena's forearm, a touch calibrated for instant, practiced intimacy. "You know, if you ever need an ally who actually understands how this building really works — who's really pulling strings, who isn't —
