“I came through the same doors as everyone else.”
“That doesn't mean everyone belongs in the same area.”
Samuel tilted his head.
“What area do you believe I belong in?”
Eleanor sighed dramatically.
“Sir, I don't have time to explain building procedures to you.”
She pointed toward a hallway near the elevators.
“Service access is probably that way.”
Samuel could have ended the conversation immediately.
He could have told her his name.
He could have pointed toward the company's history display and shown her a photograph taken the day he cut the ribbon at the building's grand opening.
He could have summoned a dozen executives with one phone call.
Instead, he asked a simple question.
“Do you work here?”
“Not yet.”
“Then how do you know the building procedures?”
Eleanor's expression hardened.
“I've worked in corporate environments for years. I know how professional offices operate.”
Samuel nodded slowly.
“And professional offices don't allow older men in worn jackets?”
“Professional offices have standards.”
“I agree.”
For the first time, something changed in Samuel's eyes.
“Standards are important.”
Eleanor folded her arms.
“I'm glad we understand each other.”
Samuel looked at her for another moment.
“We may not.”
Before Eleanor could respond, another woman approached.
She was tall, composed, and dressed in a navy skirt suit.
Her name was Vanessa Brooks.
At forty-one, Vanessa served as the company's Vice President of People and Organizational Development.
She had spent nearly eighteen years working in human resources, employee relations, and leadership development.
Unlike Eleanor, Vanessa understood that the way a person treated someone with less apparent authority often revealed more than a carefully rehearsed interview.
She had witnessed the last part of the exchange.
“Good morning,” Vanessa said.
Eleanor turned toward her.
“Finally. Perhaps you can help me.”
Vanessa's eyes moved briefly toward Samuel.
Then back to Eleanor.
“Of course. What seems to be the problem?”
“This gentleman appears to be confused about where he's supposed to wait.”
Vanessa looked at Samuel.
“Does he?”
Samuel said nothing.
Eleanor continued.
“I was explaining that the executive lobby isn't intended for maintenance or cleaning staff.”
Vanessa's expression remained controlled.
“And how did you determine that he works in maintenance?”
Eleanor laughed softly.
“Oh, come on.”
Vanessa didn't smile.
“I'm asking.”
Eleanor glanced at Samuel again.
His clothing had apparently become the only evidence she considered necessary.
“It's fairly obvious.”
Vanessa stood still.
“Is it?”
The silence stretched.
Eleanor felt an unfamiliar flicker of irritation.
She had expected the other woman to agree with her.
Instead, Vanessa seemed to be making a problem out of something simple.
“Look,” Eleanor said, “I'm here for an important executive interview. I really don't want to waste time discussing lobby management.”
Vanessa nodded.
“An executive interview?”
“Yes.”
“What position?”
“Chief Operating Officer.”
Vanessa's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
“I see.”
She extended her hand.
“Vanessa Brooks. Vice President of People and Organizational Development.”
Eleanor's posture straightened.
“Eleanor Price. It's a pleasure.”
Vanessa accepted the handshake.
“I understand you're scheduled for nine thirty.”
“That's correct.”
“Then you're a little early.”
“I believe punctuality reflects professionalism.”
“So do I.”
Vanessa glanced again toward Samuel.
“Professionalism reflects itself in several ways.”
Eleanor ignored the implication.
“Will I be meeting the board directly?”
“You'll meet several members of the leadership team.”
“And the chairman?”
Vanessa paused.
“That depends on the interview process.”
Eleanor smiled.
“Well, I hope he attends. I prefer speaking with decision-makers.”
Samuel lowered his eyes to hide the faintest hint of amusement.
Vanessa noticed.
Eleanor didn't.
A sudden movement near the elevators interrupted the conversation.
A young maintenance employee was pushing a cart carrying replacement air filters and cleaning supplies.
One of the cart's wheels caught against an uneven strip of flooring.
A folder balanced on top slipped and fell.
Several papers scattered across the marble.
The employee stopped abruptly.
“Oh, no.”
His name was Peter Collins.
He was twenty-six and had been working at the company for less than four months.
He looked embarrassed as he hurried to collect the papers.
Eleanor stepped backward.
“Seriously?”
Peter looked up.
“I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“You need to watch where you're going.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Samuel immediately bent to help.
His knees weren't as strong as they had once been, and he moved carefully, but he gathered several pages before Peter could reach them.
“Here you go,” Samuel said.
Peter looked startled.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don't worry about it.”
Eleanor watched in disbelief.
“You don't have to do that.”
Samuel stood with the papers in his hand.
“Why not?”
“That's his job.”
Peter lowered his gaze.
Vanessa looked directly at Eleanor.
Samuel handed the papers back to the young man.
“Everybody drops something now and then.”
Peter smiled gratefully.