Fifteen minutes after Mark Thompson walked out of the Royal Aviation building carrying a single cardboard box containing his desk items, Joe Bright was pacing back and forth across the penthouse carpet of his office like a caged animal.
He took a deep, shaky breath, forced his trembling hands to steady, and slammed his palm onto the desk intercom.
"Miley," Joe barked into the speaker. "Get me the primary executive line for Golden Investments immediately. I need to speak to whoever handles Mr. Rivers' direct schedule."
"Yes, Mr. Bright. Connecting you now," his assistant replied promptly.
Down on the floor of Golden Investments' corporate headquarters at Apex Plaza, Alice was reviewing the preliminary legal drafts Samuel had submitted for the upcoming Swiss acquisition when her desk phone chimed. She picked it up cleanly.
"Golden Investments, Executive Suite. How may I assist you?"
