Chapter 10
Back in the car, Bryn gave orders for Belmeade Center, which was only a few blocks away, but with traffic, it’d take forever. “Coffee shop’s on the way on the right,” Bryn instructed, and the driver complied.
Half an hour later, Bryn had released the driver from further duties for him that day. Coffee in hand and bag slung across his chest, he walked briskly up the wide concrete-and-marble stairs leading to Belmeade Center’s three-story, solid glass front. He didn’t bother with the revolving doors. He picked a regular one with a pull handle and walked into the atrium. The ceiling was thirty feet above his head and painted with a fantastical scene involving fairies, trolls, devils, angels, and all manner of creatures. Bryn had spent his first year or so debating with other dancers over what myth the mural was supposed to depict. Bryn’s money was still on Dante mated with A Midsummer Night’s Dream