Contracts of Heart

Chapter 3: The Glass Tower

The Glass Tower

She swallowed hard and walked up to the concierge. “Hello, um. I am Marie Dubois, and I have an

interview in Suite 47B. This is a confirmation email I sent.

He did not raise his head. He swiped his ID card through a scanner built into the desk after quickly

scanning her QR code on his phone.

"She will buzz you in," he said flatly.

Shortly thereafter, a panel in the door next to him softly clicked green. She let out a breath, sat up

straight, and entered a quiet elevator bank via the turnstile.

The 47th level was unmarked when the doors swung open. She entered a gray-carpeted corridor

with subdued sconce lighting. A solitary door without a nameplate waited at the further end.

She hesitated when she stood in front of it and touched the chilly metal handle. Behind her

thoughts, she could hear the bustle of the city: the bookshop owned by her parents in Vermont, the

reverberation of her own uncertainties, and the risk she had made only hours before.

Marie steadied herself, twisted the handle, and took a step into the unknown. Behind her, the door

slowly closed.

As Marie entered the elevator lobby via an automated door, her sneakers clicked on the polished

marble. Before her rose six shining shafts of glass and steel, each door flat and unmarked.

Recessed LEDs gently illuminated the walls, simulating natural sunshine, an impossibility on the 47th

level of Midtown Manhattan.

The closest elevator illuminated a covert panel. The doors slid open with a muffled chime as she

touched her ID card against the scanner. The sleek black walls inside mirrored her nervous face; the

brushed steel railing felt cool to the touch. The automobile hummed higher as she hit "47."

There was simply a distant whoosh to break the stillness as each level went past. Twenty-three,

thirty, forty, the clamor of the city seemed to be miles away—until the doors opened and she entered

a hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows that provided a continuous view of the river, yellow taxis, and

infinite lights.

She gasped. The skyline extended into infinity above, while the streets below created a labyrinth of

movement. It resembled a royal chamber poised above the globe rather than a place of employment. She proceeded to door 47B, which had lacquered wood paneling, the tiny brass numbers shining in a

single lighting. The door creaked open to show a receiving alcove with low, glass-topped tables and

charcoal-gray armchairs, and a slight click signaled her approach. Stylistically arranged, leather-

bound art books were a quiet witness to John Thorne's refined taste.

A slim lady emerged from behind a simple desk wearing a white shirt and an ash-gray pencil skirt.

Her nametag said “Lydia Corwin – Executive Liaison.” She looked at Marie with cautious courtesy,

her black hair tied back in a neat chignon.

"Ms. "Dubois," Lydia replied as she stood up. Thorne Enterprises welcomes you. She pointed to the

armchairs and said, "Please, take a seat."

Marie clutched her resume folder like a lifeline as she slid into the silky leather. After twice tapping a

tablet, the receptionist looked up. "Mr. I shall see you soon, Thorne. Could I give you tea, water—? "

Marie, already regretting the quaver in her voice, murmured, "Water, please."

With powder-puff silence, Lydia glided out, leaving Marie alone in a room full of steel and glass. The

city lights spread out like constellations from her seat. For a minute, she closed her eyes and

concentrated on the steady tick of a chrome clock on the far wall. She reminded herself that it was

business formal. No shuddering. Do not question it.

Behind Lydia's desk, a door opened, revealing a tray with a pitcher of water and two crystal glasses.

After setting one in front of Marie, Lydia poured herself a glass. In the silence, the sound of liquid

filling crystal felt far too loud.

"Are you at ease? Lydia questioned as she went back to her chair.

Marie raised the glass with both hands and murmured, "Thank you." It was really chilly.

"Mr. "Discretion is the most important thing to Thorne," Lydia said in a quiet voice. You will discover

that the NDA is thorough. You may ask personal questions. Before he comes, are you worried about

anything? "

Marie looked up at her. "I am aware of the terminology. I do not currently have any questions.

Lydia bowed her head and touched the tablet once again. Excellent. She got up and disappeared

through another door, leaving Marie alone again. "He will be with you shortly."

Time slowed. Placing the glass on the table, Marie reached inside her folder and, as if to test the

resume's firmness, brushed a fingertip down its edge. A gentle chime from the elevator doors

signaled an arrival along the hallway. There were heavy footsteps. The door to the reception opened, and Lydia came back in, guiding a tall person into the room. He

wore a clean white shirt, a slender black tie tied just below a well-defined Adam's apple, and a

charcoal suit that was so well-tailored it appeared painted on. His penetrating gray eyes darted from

Marie's face to her resume folder and back again, while his jet-black hair was trimmed tight.

He was both magnificent and powerful. The guy who, without saying a word, filled a room.

"Ms. "Dubois," he said, each syllable deliberate. He spoke in a calm, controlled tone. He shook hands

with a single finger. Marie accepted his hand after swallowing past the acute dryness in her throat.

He held on with authority and firmness without being cruel.

"Mr. She nodded and managed to say, "Thorne."

He let go of her hand and gestured to a conference room with glass walls that was just beyond.

"Please come with me. We do not have much time, but we have a lot to say.

Marie picked up her folder and stood up. Only the top and bottom inches of the frosted glass door

were visible as she went through, making their encounter partially visible from the hallway. A

mahogany table that was almost the whole length of the room was enclosed by the slightly curved

walls.

She sat two seats down on his right, facing the metropolis directly behind him, while he took the

chair at the head. A sealed package was passed across the table by him.

He touched the envelope and added, "First, we need to finalize your NDA." His voice was still

inscrutable. He gestured rapidly to three different lines and said, "Sign here, here, and initial there."