He was crouched beside the cabinet when another door opened behind him.
Rebecca Alden entered.
Black evening dress.
Hair down.
Shoes in one hand.
She looked at Malcolm as if she had expected somebody else.
“You stayed.”
Malcolm stood.
“I think you have the wrong suite, ma’am.”
Rebecca stared.
Then said another man’s name.
“Daniel?”
Malcolm shook his head.
“No.”
For several seconds she simply looked at him.
Then her eyes focused more clearly.
“You’re not Daniel.”
“No.”
“Obviously.”
She laughed once.
Embarrassed.
“I’m sorry.”
Malcolm nodded toward the door.
“I’ll get out of your way.”
“Wait.”
He stopped.
Rebecca set her shoes down.
“I know who you are.”
Malcolm almost smiled.
“No, you don’t.”
She frowned.
“You work here.”
“That narrows it down to four thousand people.”
She looked at the uniform.
“Facilities.”
“Night custodial.”
Rebecca seemed bothered by the fact that she had never noticed him.
“What’s your name?”
“Malcolm.”
She repeated it.
Not casually.
Like she was making herself remember.
Malcolm looked toward the corridor.
“Do you need me to call your assistant?”
“No.”
“A car?”
“No.”
“Security?”
“Absolutely not.”
He waited.
Rebecca sat on the edge of the sofa.
“I’m fine.”
Malcolm did not believe her completely.
But she was speaking clearly now.
Following conversation.
Aware of where she was.
More emotionally exhausted than physically impaired.
He picked up his pouch.
“Then I’ll leave.”
“Why does everyone leave the second I stop being useful?”
Malcolm stopped again.
That was not a CEO speaking.
That was a tired woman who had apparently spent too many years being surrounded by people with agendas.
He turned.
“I don’t know you well enough to answer that.”
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“That may be the first honest thing anyone said to me tonight.”
Malcolm should have left.
He knew that.
He had Eli waiting at home.
She was his employer’s CEO.
Nothing about the situation belonged in his life.
Instead, they talked.
At first about nothing important.
The gala.
The building.
The ridiculous cost of the flowers downstairs.
Then Rebecca asked how long he had worked there.
“Three years.”
She looked embarrassed.
“I’ve never seen you.”
“You’ve seen me.”
“No.”
“You’ve walked past me.”
That landed differently.
Rebecca lowered her eyes.
“Fair.”
Malcolm told her about Eli.
Not much.
Enough.
Rebecca told him about the board.
Her uncle.
The pressure.
Not company secrets.
Just loneliness wearing professional clothing.
An hour passed.
Then another.