Sarah's POV
The sleek glass tower housing Carla Ruiz’s offices gleamed under the midday sun three days later. I stepped out of the town car Adrian had insisted on providing, smoothing down my tailored beige dress. It was professional, modest, Eleanor-approved.
My heart beat faster than it should for a simple business meeting.
Carla’s assistant greeted me in the sleek lobby and escorted me to the twentieth-floor conference room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the river, with sunlight dancing on the water.
Carla rose from the head of the long table, her navy pantsuit sharp and confident, dark hair in its signature sleek bun. Her smile was warm.
“Sarah. Right on time. I’m glad you could make it.” She gestured to a chair beside her, where coffee and a light spread of
