Back at the office, Martin found his company's VP, Steve, looking like a deer caught in headlights. The man was visibly drenched in sweat and seemed to sigh in relief upon seeing Martin, as if he was the answer to his prayers.
"Mr. Martin, thank goodness you're here!"
Standing in front of Florence, the vice president was so frightened he barely dared to breathe, let alone move. He stood there, bent over, looking as if he was about to have a panic attack.
Refreshments had been served—coffee and pastries—but Florence hadn't touched a thing. She sat on the couch with an icy demeanor, stone-faced and silent, as if she had been seething for hours.
Diana was there too, sitting off to the side, completely ignoring Steve. When she saw Martin walk in, she rolled her eyes at her own brother.
"Steve, you can leave us," Martin said, and the VP shot him a look of sheer gratitude, as if Martin had just offered him a lifeline out of a treacherous sea.
