Gemotions

The security line snaked, but Beatrice barely registered it. She breezed through, her passport presented with a flourish, a practiced smile gracing her lips. The delay, announced over the crackling intercom, was a mere inconvenience. She tapped her Louboutin-clad foot impatiently, already calculating how to smooth things over with the client. A quick phone call, a charming apology, and all would be forgiven. Her reputation preceded her; she was, after all, Beatrice Sterling, the deal-maker.

The announcement of a further delay elicited a sigh, but one born of mild irritation rather than distress. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, already formulating a revised itinerary in her mind. A slight frown etched her brow as she realized the meeting was now impossible. "Well," she muttered to herself, adjusting the strap of her designer bag, "Time to charm them with a virtual presentation."