Private Room

The corner of her mouth moved. Then she looked past him to the private room. "Exit?" Ethan nodded toward a service corridor partially hidden behind a wine station. "There. Kitchen path. Left turn to back stairs." "You checked?" "I read menus online like a normal person." "Liar." "Advisor." Marcus Vale rose when they entered. He wore a dark suit and no tie, silver hair cut close, expression warm enough to be useful and no warmer. At sixty-two, he had the relaxed posture of a man who had stopped chasing rooms because rooms came to him. "Priya Raman," Marcus said. "I have tried to invest in your company twice." "And failed twice." "Persistence is a virtue." "So is taking no for an answer."