The automatic glass doors of Vantage Point Realty slid open with a whisper of filtered air. Jake stepped into the lobby, his sneakers squeaking slightly on the polished obsidian floor. He was still wearing the same dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt—the kind of outfit that invited the judgment he knew was coming.
At the glass table, Camille didn't even look up from her tablet. She just let out a heavy, performative sigh. "Back again?" one of the male agents muttered, loud enough to carry. "Maybe he forgot his water bottle."
Jake didn't acknowledge them. He didn't have to. The power dynamic in the room was about to shift so violently it would leave a vacuum.
The back door clicked open, and Alice stepped out. She wasn't carrying a thin folder anymore; she held a heavy, leather-bound portfolio and a digital tablet glowing with a gold-tier interface. Her smile was wide, radiating a level of professional heat that caused the other agents to freeze mid-sentence.
