Chapter nineteen

Zaphrina parked her car just where she was told; an underground parking lot containing sophisticated automobiles. On her way out she sighted a coal-black Nissan in an isolated corner and she immediately knew who it referred to.

She rushed out of the parking lot, walked through the large automatic swinging door with the N.T logo on either side.

The air inside the tremendously huge well-lit room stunk of professionalism. Everything was just like she imagined; Pretty ladies and gentlemen in costly outfits parading from one end to another, their heels chiming songs of arrogance with each step made on the immaculate white marbles.

The smiles exchanged between those carried away into discussions were priceless and professional. Those seated before their computers wore the look of loyalty. Zaphrina suddenly found herself envious.

"How may I be of assistance miss?"

Her head snapped to the direction of the vocalist--the receptionist--who donned a navy blue suit, her forest-green eyes,