The elevator hummed its way down from the ninety-eighth floor with the patient, expensive silence of machinery that cost more than most people's houses and probably had better sex than most people too.
Valentina stood to Phei's left, arms folded loosely, dark hair still slightly mussed from the morning like someone had tried to finger-comb it into submission and lost the fight.
She wore an expression she got sometimes—her mouth still but her brain was doing laps around a racetrack made of pure "what the actual fuck." with her yes narrowed slightly and head tilted a fraction.
The particular focus of a woman who'd been turning something over in her mind for a while and had just decided the turning was done and the asking was starting.
Maya stood to his right, silver hair freshly combed and gleaming like moonlight had learned how to dress itself and decided to show off. She wore an ivory blouse so soft it looked like it had been woven from actual clouds.
